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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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Moonlight On The Sand

Summary: Stationed to the desert for a short mission, you are on terrain inspection when the full moon emerges from behind the clouds. However little do you know there’s something about the Captain accompanying you that may change things forever. Based on this ask from @fairndsquare

Pairing; Captain Syverson x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned) Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sand Castle (Movie) Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Werewolves, Werewolf!Sy, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Ovulation, Breeding, Outdoor Sex/Car Sex. This is NOT an ABO story.

I do not run a tag list, but please go follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post a new story. Masterlist got too big for Tumblr, so past works can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites or on my AO3

Only the finest, free range, organic typos for me, allowed to run wild and free.

Sy fumed silently as he drove the truck through the abandoned desert. He was furious that he had been overruled, but the general had finally done a site visit and his word was final; Sy had to show the new logistics planner the area, and there was no avoiding it.

What the General didn’t know was what Sy had been through during his posting in the dry and barren landscape. That mythical creatures didn’t always originate from leafy green valleys, or snow capped mountains, sometimes they dwelled in dry arid plains and rocky outcrops.

The truck hit a particularly proud rock on the dirt track and leapt into the air, your hands flying as you grasped for something to steady yourself on, one on the dash and one on the particularly meaty thigh of your commanding officer.

“Sorry” the gruff man uttered through gritted teeth.

“S’okay… the moon’ll be up soon and we’ll be able to see better as its full tonight” you casually replied, looking out over the desert surrounding you, surprised as the truck slowed down a little.

“The moon?”

“Yes, you know the big round rock orbiting the earth?”

“I know what the moon is darlin’, been cloudy the last ten days so hadn’t been keeping track…” he muttered to himself.

You used the small penstick flashlight to glance over the map;

“I need to see this valley, and get an idea of what it’ll be like to bring the trailers in with water tanks on”

The Captain glanced where you were pointing and nodded once, letting the truck veer to the right to follow the camel route up through the hills.

As the truck gained elevation Sy could feel his mouth watering. He could not only smell you, he could sense how you had grown wet in his presence. It was like a sickly sweet coating of pollen at the back of his throat on a spring day back home. Halfway through the day he’d been in a conference call as you stood in the corner of the room, observing as he updated his superiors back in Washington, when he’d picked up another sense, the only way to describe it was as if something had suddenly ripened in the room. It’d taken him until the end of the call to realise it was you and your body had just reached its most fertile point in the month. You were ripe and ready, you just didn’t know it.

That single thought had plagued Sy for the rest of the day, something in the pit of his belly was just telling him to flee, to get as far away from you as possible… for your safety. But then his military training had kicked in and he’d followed orders, and that’s how he found himself pulling the truck onto a rocky pullout on the curved track as it skirted around the hill, the view over the valley spectacular as the moon finally emerged from behind the clouds and illuminated the earth below.

Stepping out of the truck you used your night vision goggles to scan over the plateau in front of you, looking out over the wide vista. You felt the heat of his body first, standing behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up. You knew what he was wanting.

24 hours earlier.

Scrolling your phone you checked the calendar, relieved that the mission to the desert would be there and back in the space of two weeks, back in time before your monthly bleed would start again. If there’s one thing you didn’t want to have to deal with, it would be tampons and sand. It would mean you’d be ovulating whilst there, but you had enough sugary snacks packed to keep the hormones subdued, and this wasn’t your first time being overseas, although normally you were confined to a small base north of Washington DC.

The flight had been long and bumpy, little more than a glorified cargo hold, so by the time you arrived at the compound and finally got to meet the infamous Captain Syverson, you were tingling with anticipation for what the next two weeks would involve.

When he finally spoke, it was low and deep, resonating through your spine;

“You need to get in that truck, and drive it far from here…”

You went to turn but his hand caught your arm, keeping you looking out over the valley;

“Captain?”

“Private, do as i tell you… there are things in these hills, that you don’t know of and don’t need to know of…”

It was then that you sensed it: the connection. It was like a spark shot up your spine, and in a moment of foolhardy courage you turned, the air being sucked from your lungs when you saw him. The Captain stood before you, his eyes burning into your soul, the ring of fire in his irises and his canine teeth just a little more prominent. Your chest heaved with a shaky breath, and his nostrils flared;

“Private…” he warned one last time.

But rather than running in the opposite direction, you slowly took a step forward, holding your hand to his cheek and for a moment your touch soothed him. You took in how his hair had grown longer, his shoulders even broader, he was virile and potent. That’s when he felt it, his senses clouded as the moon took hold, but finally he realised; you weren’t afraid.

His body slammed yours against the side of the truck, his lips on yours as his tongue pushed into your mouth; tasting you, devouring you. Your hands clung to the sides of his weather beaten uniform, pulling him ever closer so you could feel every inch of his body pressing against yours until suddenly his hands were on your hips and he was lifting you onto the still warm hood of the truck. With expert skill he had quickly shed you of your cargo pants and sensible undergarments, his face between your thighs and you watched with fascination as he inhaled deeply, humming as your scent hit his brain before he dived in.

His tongue was everywhere; licking and tasting you, running firm circles over your clit before descending and pushing the thick muscle into your velvet channel, his sharp teeth pressed against your soaked folds as he tasted you from within. When you came you screamed into the night sky, your legs shaking as the feral beast between your thighs growled in satisfaction, his eyes glowing.

He pulled you from the hood and carried you to the rear of the vehicle, opening the tailgate before sitting you on the edge as he made quick work of his cargo pants, his thigh holster holding them up as his thick cock unfurled from the worn in cotton. You swallowed nervously; you were far from a virgin but the thought of the thick gnarled girth splitting your insides apart had you pulling away for a moment. That was until he gently cupped the back of your neck, pulling your face to his as he rested his forehead on yours and you instantly felt calmer and relaxed. The first touch of his hot flesh against your soaked core had you trembling with anticipation, before he paused, one massive hand resting over your stomach, and he growled as the warmth of your womb almost burnt into his palm;

“Mine...” he muttered, before those feral eyes met yours; “...ours”

“Captain… now, please…” you whined, knowing that what he knew about you, and you were ready.

With a roar he surged forward, your ripened walls parting for him as if welcoming him home. With his palm still pressed to your stomach he could feel himself inside you, the thickness pushing out your belly as he moved slowly and carefully, working to get just the right angle until he paused and you saw that ring of fire in his irises again burn bright.

It was then that he moved faster, the pull and push hitting every spot inside you, feral and wanting, an urgent need to to fill you with his seed, to breed you took over. Faster and faster he pounded into your soft body, drawing orgasms out of you quicker than you could process them, before he slowed and pulled you up so you were sitting, your bodies still connected. In that moment it was when the connection, the bond was finally fully formed, and as he pressed his forehead to your and started to fuck you again, you felt your spirit joining with his. His thrusts got faster, harder, his breath hot on your skin. The angle of his pelvis meant it took just a couple more thrusts and you were coming again, this time he threw his head back and let out a cry-come-howl as he released into your womb, his seed flooding into you as your body eagerly milked him of it.

You stayed joined in the most intimate of ways until the cool night air made a shiver run down your back, the movement of your body making you realise the Captain was still hard and nestled deep within you;

“So… are we stuck?”

“No… but this is the first time i’ve done… this… whilst i’ve been like… this…” he let out a huff of air; “I’m not exactly sure how long i’m gonna stay hard Darlin’... we could be here a while…”

“All night?” you said, a hint of hope in your voice

“I’m yours until the moon goes down Darlin’”

“And after the moon goes down?”

He Captain paused;

“What would a girl like you want with a beast like me come daybreak?”

Running your hand over his beard your thumb caressed the skin of his cheek;

“Everything Captain… i want all of you...” It was only in that moment that Sy saw it, the ring of fire in your own eyes. He had found his mate and you had found yours; “Breed me Captain…”

#captain syverson #captain syverson smut #captain sy x reader #captain syverson x reader #henry cavill

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fanmoose12 · 3 years ago

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catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 8/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Hange hated it.

She hated it all – the today’s cold early morning, the yesterday’s long, sleepless night, the shitty, overpriced coffee from the airport cafe. She hated the weather that was too cold not to wear a coat and a scarf, but now made her sweat in all the layers of clothing. She hated the uncomfortable chair she was sitting at, hated waiting for so long just to see the needed flight appear on screen. She hated her new case and the sense of urgency it brought along. She hated that she had to work with him to find that missing young girl.

And more than all of that, she hated that sleazy bastard, that Ackerman.

She hated that morning in the hospital, when she found a note and recognized that it was written by the same hand that used to mock her every failure. Everything clicked right there and then, and Hange hated that she felt sad about it. Not angry, not betrayed, but sad. She was hurt, she was miserable, so much so that she actually shed a few tears, feeling like she lost someone she never actually had.

She should have known better, should have not let that happen. She shouldn’t have trusted him, not after just a couple of dates, after a few silly jokes and endearing gestures. But Ackerman, that damned thief, managed to sneak through all of her defenses, he made her think that there was something there, some connection between them. Perhaps, even something special.

Then everything turned out to be a lie, and it left her broken, wondering what she did wrong, when did she become so naive. She threw herself into her work, finding a short respite in it. For long two months that seemed more like a few days, she almost felt at piece, almost managed to convince herself – and everyone else – that she ceased thinking about Ackermans, their case and the man who might or might not even be called Levi. And now she had to work with him.

Hange hated her job sometimes.

She also hated her heart most of the time, especially right now, when it squeezed painfully at the sight of Ackerman’s dark, sullen and so unfairly handsome face.

Despite the large crowd and long corridor that separated them, their eyes still met each other.

Her treacherous heart skipped another beat.

Hange gripped the paper coffee cup as tight as it allowed, forcing herself to school her expression in something more appropriate – cold, detached. Not so heartbroken.

At least, Ackerman had the decency to look ashamed. He lowered his gaze as soon as he saw her, and it gave Hange the time to look over his entire form.

He changed. Ever so slightly, but still noticeable enough for Hange’s keen eyes.

He was more tanned now, not nearly as sickly pale as he was before. The circles under his eyes didn’t disappear though, and so didn’t his stiff posture. There was another change, however - a small cut on his left cheek. It sparked a quick flash of anger for the person responsible. Hange hated herself for that, too.

She shouldn’t care about that, shouldn’t wonder about the person who hurt Levi, shouldn’t wish to hurt them back. These feelings, they irritated Hange. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make them disappear.

“It’s just you here?” Ackerman approached her slowly, his hand gripping the strap of his travelling bag just as tightly as Hange held her coffee cup. She stood up too, straightening to her full height. Ackerman stopped, just a few steps away from her. “I thought you would bring the entire police department to arrest me.”

Hange scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not that important.”

And there was also that tiny little thing about her not actually having the power to arrest him. Technically, the Ackermans’ case was closed. Technically, Hange had no definitive piece of evidence that she could have used to lock him up.

Technically, Ackerman wasn’t even supposed to be here. And neither was she.

Back at the precinct, no one actually knew about that venture of hers. And they wouldn’t find out about it, not if Hange did everything right.

There were lots of reasons why Hange had to keep Ackerman’s involvement a secret. There was this thing about him being a notorious criminal who escaped justice, but more importantly, there was this little thing about her going on a date with the said criminal. Hange knew that Erwin knew about Levi and his true identity, he never told her that specifically, but when Hange demanded to take her off Ackerman’s case, he didn’t even bat an eye. He also didn’t ask a single question. The absence of his reaction made her wonder just how much he actually knew, and for how long he had that knowledge. Had he known since the beginning? Had he kept quiet just to see where it would lead? And whether she would realize the truth or not?

Hange didn’t have the guts to ask Erwin about that directly, didn’t wish to open that can of worms right now, preferred that it would stay closed for good. They both ignored that mistake of hers, both didn’t dare to bring up Levi or her previous case. And Hange would have liked for it to stay this way forever.

But if Erwin found out that Hange made Ackerman come out of hiding, so he would help her to find the missing Krista Lenz, well… Erwin probably wouldn’t chew her head off, but he definitely would give her a strict, and extremely long verbal reprimanding.

And he would take her off the case, and that… well, Hange already had a case she failed at spectacularly, she didn’t wish for that to become a pattern.

She also wished to find Krista Lenz and save her from whatever peril she found herself in. Hange didn’t know her, had only seen the photos, but that bright smile and those kind blue eyes kept pushing her forward, gave her a reason to not just solve the case, but bring that girl home.

And if she had to work with the damned Ackerman to achieve it, so be it.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” she promptly turned away from him, starting a brisk pace and heading to the exit of the airport. She hoped the Ackerman would follow. He did, surprisingly obedient. “Let’s eat before we start.”

***

The diner was nice.

Small but cozy, the interior was made up entirely of combination of blue and white. The tables were clean and adorned with neat, soft tablecloth, the booth he was sitting at was spacious and comfortable, the food was delicious and tea was made just as he liked it, even the music didn’t bother him, a pleasant, quiet melody was playing, adding to the atmosphere.

The diner was nice. His company, however, was not. Levi never thought that someone could eat breakfast so angrily. But every time his and Hange’s gazes met, he was quick to look away, her icy cold stare practically boring into his soul.

Thankfully, while Hange was busy devouring her omelet, she didn’t glance at him even once. She had mentioned that she was starving, and, knowing her work etiquette and seeing that her cheekbones became slightly more pronounced, Levi was inclined to think that her backhanded remark wasn’t just a figure of speech.

Watching her eat made Levi wonder what would happen if he ordered her a desert. Would Hange punch him or simply annihilate him with her glare?

Honestly, Levi was surprised she hadn’t punched him the moment she had seen him in the airport. He was also immensely surprised that he was having breakfast in a diner and not on his way to the prison.

During the phone call, Hange said that she wasn’t going to arrest him, but still, he would have liked to ask more about it. However, breaching that subject with Hange looking so furious didn’t seem like a great idea. He was walking on a thin ice as it was.

But even so, the tense silence was swiftly becoming unbearable, and Levi raked his brain for a topic of conversation, something safe and unassuming, the kind of talk that wouldn’t earn him a kick to his face.

“So how did you find me?”

Not the best way to start, Levi realized that as soon as the question tumbled out of his mouth. He cringed, thinking if he should just take his words back. But it was already too late.

Hange put the fork down and looked at him. With her eyebrows furrowed like that, she looked too much like her Captain, that annoying Erwin Smith. She wasn’t nearly as annoying, though. And, in Levi’s humble opinion, she was much handsomer than her mentor.

“It wasn’t that hard,” Hange said, as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. Some gravy remained at the side of her lips, but Levi wasn’t sure if he should point that out. He would have liked to wipe it out himself, he remembered doing exactly that during one of their dates, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. He would have liked to repeat that simple gesture. Then again, Hange probably wouldn’t have liked if he did that. “I guessed that you left the city on the night when…” something in her expression shifted, her face became less guarded. But Hange blinked and it was gone, the same stone mask returning. She cleared her throat and continued, “when we spoke for the last time. Since I knew when you left, it was only a matter of looking at the camera recording from the airport and finding which flight you took. Then I requested some security viewings from the city you were hiding at, and… here you are.”

Hange made it sound so simple, Levi almost believed that it actually was. Her exhausted face told another story, though. Levi could only imagine how long it took her to find him. She must be at her wit’s end, if she went through all of this just to get his help.

“What do you need me for then?”

Hange reached to her bag, opening and rummaging through it. When she was finished, she took out the case file and handed it to him.

“This is Krista Lenz, a college student who had disappeared a week ago,” Levi opened the case file, young blonde girl with impossibly bright eyes stared at him from the first page. “Do you recognize her?”

Levi looked at the photo for another second, just to be sure. But the girl on the photo stirred nothing in him. No vague memory, no sort of recollection. The name didn’t sound familiar, and if he had ever met the girl, it could only be in passing, as both of them, perhaps, walked beside each other on the same sidewalk. But that was the extent of it. Whoever this girl was, Levi did not know her.

He said the very thing to Hange, as he closed and pushed the case file back to her.

Hange pushed it back to him. “Well, too bad that you don’t know her. Because your uncle is the one who kidnapped her.”

Levi was very grateful for his extreme talent at keeping his face straight, because mentally his jaw was somewhere near the fucking floor. Externally, however, he didn’t let a single muscle on his face twitch.

With more self-restraint that he thought was capable of, he lifted an eyebrow, and asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve heard me,” Hange opened the case file for him and flicked through a couple of pages. “We searched Krista’s room and found a few letters, written by some Kenny the Reaper. Sounds familiar to you?”

More familiar than Hange thought. Of course, Levi knew Kenny the Reaper, back when he was a brat, his uncle used to tell tales of the Reaper, scary, blood-curling stories about the tall man in a long dusty black coat, who lived across the tracks. Kenny said the man’s hands were constantly covered in red and he always smelled of metal and copper. Kenny said the Reaper would come and take him, if Levi continued acting like a pathetic, whiny brat. Stories about the Reaper used to terrify the shit out of him, especially during the nights, when Kenny turned off the lights and storm was raging outside.

After his mother died, and Levi was spending his days in bed, crying himself to sleep, the stories about Kenny the Reaper reached their peak.

Kenny the Reaper would whisk you away at night if you don’t eat the soup, Kenny the Reaper would stand above your bed during the night if you don’t go to sleep, Kenny the Reaper would bath you in your own blood, if you don’t change your dirty clothes, Kenny the Reaper would come and eat your heart in front of you, if you don’t stop crying.

During those horrible, grief-filled days, only the fear of Kenny the Reaper was able to stop Levi from wallowing in his own misery.

Kenny wasn’t the best parent, wasn’t truly made for it, but, surprisingly, some of his methods, as cruel as they were, actually worked on Levi.

But he stopped with the silly stories once Levi became a teenager and they ceased having an effect on him.

Then why did Kenny the Reaper return? Why did he write letters to a young girl, who had disappeared? Could it really be that his uncle was the culprit?

Levi looked down at the case file, where a picture of the Reaper’s note was attached. All doubts disappeared from his mind. It was Kenny’s handwriting, the same messy, barely incomprehensible scribblings. But how did they appear inside the missing girl’s room? And why did Kenny write them in the first place?

He looked at note more closely, squinting to read it.

I have something you might want to look at it, little Missy. Come to the tracks tonight, or Kenny the Ripper will take you away by force.

Levi stared at the note for another moment, struggling to comprehend. It looked like… utter gibberish.

“So?” Hange lifted the cup to her lips, watching him over its rim. “Was my hunch correct? Is it really your uncle’s doing?”

It was just a hunch, but Hange had him located and brought back into the city simply to check if she was right? Either she was that confident in her theory, or… she was that desperate.

“It’s his handwriting,” he told her. “This note was definitely written by him.”

But did Kenny kidnap some girl? Levi didn’t know if that was possible. Why would his uncle even do that? What shitty trouble was he involved in this time? What was going on in the city during the two months that he was away? What Kenny was up to during that time? What was he up to right now?

It seemed like Levi certainly had missed a lot. He had to catch up to it all, and quickly. Perhaps, Hange would be able to help him.

“I don’t think Kenny had taken that girl,” Levi wasn’t sure if his uncle was even capable of that. Sure, he did some nasty things, but always for a reason. And what possible reason could he have to kidnap a young girl? “Did you receive a ransom after her disappearance?”

“No. There is utter silence after Krista went missing. I thought about your uncle only because I’ve remembered you mentioning that his name was Kenny. Decided this theory was worth pursuing.”

Levi didn’t even know he said it, but Hange remembered it? This small detail probably shouldn’t have made him feel so warm inside.

She’s a detective, it’s her job to pick up and remember stuff, he told himself. His heart refused to listen.

“I’m willing to help you find him,” he said to Hange, shaking his head to get rid of useless thoughts. He had a more pressing matter right now. For example, why the fuck his uncle decided to kidnap someone. Finding an answer to this question was his priority. Levi just had to remember that.

“Oh,” Hange waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t really have a choice in that. I need you to help me, Ackerman. And since your apartment was abandoned a little over a week ago, just as Krista went missing, I think it’s a good place to start our investigation.”

Hange knew where his apartment was located? This was hardly surprising, considering that she managed to find him in another city, but still… Her detective skills were brilliant.

Hange waved over the waitress, asking for a bill. As soon as she paid, she stood up. Levi quickly followed her suit.

“My apartment is on the other side of town,” he began, as he fell into step with Hange. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to escape?”

“Want me to handcuff you, Ackerman? Didn’t know you were so kinky,” surprisingly, Hange grinned. But the merry expression didn’t stay for long. The serious detective face returned almost immediately. “If you really think about escaping, my advice to you – don’t. I found you in another city on the other side of the world. How long do you think it would take me to find you here?”

Well, point was certainly taken. No more jokes and attempts at flirting. Hange was definitely not in the mood for this. Levi would have liked to blame it on her case, but he wasn’t that naïve and he was never that good at fooling himself. Hange hated him now, and there was nothing surprising about it. He knew it was going to come to this. He thought he was prepared.

But the bitter taste in his mouth, the giant, crushing weight in his chest – that he wasn’t ready for.

“It’ll be easier to get to my apartment by the subway,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

He wanted Hange to throw some stupid joke or a lame one-liner, say at least something. Instead, she followed after him without a single word.

Levi's disappointment was unmeasurable.

***

Hange didn’t know how exactly she pictured the apartment of two notorious thieves to look like, but she certainly didn’t expect the Ackermans’ den to look so… normal.

No secret traps, no hidden treasures, no weaponry hanging on the wall, there was nothing that could even hint at the possibility that the two men that were living there were criminals.

The apartment was relatively small, with only two bedrooms and a kitchen. It also wasn’t as spartan as Hange would have imagined it to be. There were pictures – but not photos – hanging on the walls, house plants that stood on windowsills, a bookshelf filled with books, curtains that fluttered from the wind coming from the open windows.

All of it was so mundane and cozy… Hange didn’t quite know what to make of it.

However, she had to admit, she was not only surprised, but a little disappointed too. She didn’t know what to expect from Ackermans’ apartment, but she had her ideas of what Levi’s apartment would look like. She pictured a neat, pristine place with spotless floors and shining cutlery.

But in reality, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, the kitchen was filled with empty pizza boxes and bottles of beer, clothes were lying in the piles on the floor, dust was flying in the air.

Did the great clean freak Levi really live there? Or was that side of Levi’s persona just another lie?

“Fucking Kenny,” Ackerman mumbled under his breath, his scowl as fierce as ever. “I was gone for two months and he already turned into a pig.”

Oh. So that wasn’t part of an act? Hange was actually relieved to hear it. Enough to chuckle and say, “The obsession with cleanliness doesn’t run in the family?”

Ackerman turned from glaring at the dark stain on the kitchen table to look at her. His mouth twitched, as their eyes met. “Kenny is just a horrible exception.”

And there it was. For no longer than a single moment, but something had ignited, some sort of connection, recognition deep within her, the feeling of belonging. It was the same feeling she had whenever she was with Levi before.

But it wasn’t Levi, she reminded herself strictly. It wasn’t Levi, the awkward, endearing man she stumbled upon one evening. It was Ackerman, a thief who consciously played with her feelings, who lied to her and fooled her into believing he was someone else.

But Hange knew who he was now. She wouldn’t let him fool her anymore.

She looked away from him, her expression turning sourer. Possibly sensing her foul mood, Ackerman turned away too, his frown deepening.

“What exactly you expect to find here?” he asked. “I thought you guys had already searched our house.”

“No. I didn’t want to bother with getting a search warrant.”

She didn’t want to, and she couldn’t. If she came to Erwin, asking for a search warrant for the Ackermans’ apartment, because she suspected that one of Ackermans was involved in her new case, Erwin would call off the case right that instant. He’d say that she was too emotionally compromised, that she couldn’t think straight and had an unhealthy obsession with Ackermans’ case.

Erwin wouldn’t have listened to her theory, wouldn’t have let her continue working. And Hange couldn’t let go of this case, couldn't allow someone from Nile’s team to start searching for the missing Krista Lenz. After all, there was a reason why Erwin gave that case specifically to her. She was driven, endlessly dedicated to her work, Erwin knew she wouldn’t stop before Krista Lenz was found and safely returned to her old life.

And Hange couldn’t let Krista’s safety be compromised, because of some search warrant she didn’t even need. She came here with the owner of the apartment, right? Technically, she got inside without breaking any laws. Except she was working with a criminal, but then again, no one could prove that Ackerman was a criminal. Hange would have to work on that after she brought Krista home.

“So what is it that you hope to find here?” Ackerman repeated his question. “I doubt your missing girl is hidden inside my closet.”

Hange rolled her eyes at the obvious sarcasm. Ackerman didn’t believe her, but she didn’t really need him to. He could believe that his uncle was innocent, that it was some big misunderstanding or whatever lie he created for himself. She didn’t need Ackerman to share her suspicions, she just needed him to help her find Kenny Ackerman.

That was the primary and only reason for his involvement.

“Let’s start with his room then,” Hange said. “Even if Krista isn’t there, perhaps, we’ll be able to find something of use anyway.”

“Well, you’re the boss here,” Ackerman scoffed.

With hands shoved deep into his pockets, Ackerman led her out of the kitchen and into a short hallway. As they walked, they passed a room that had a slightly ajar door. Curious, Hange popped her head inside. In contrast to the rest of the house, that room was tidy. It didn’t take a detective to realize that it was Levi’s room. On a wardrobe beside the bed, there was a blue shirt hanging. Hange recognize it as the same shirt Levi wore to their so-called first date. The shirt was nice, she remembered thinking that it brought Levi’s eyes.

Hange wanted to rip it into pieces.

She kicked the door closed with her foot, ignoring Ackerman’s wide-eyed stare. “Let’s just get it over with,” she grumbled, beyond frustrated.

Thankfully, Ackerman didn’t comment and silently led her to his uncle’s room.

Inside, it was even messier than in the rest of the apartment. Papers were scattered around, empty glasses and plates were littering the floor, the bed was unmade, the blanket and pillow missing from it. The state of the room was even worse than the mess inside Hange’s apartment, even during her bad days. It was dark too, the heavy brown curtains blocking the sunlight from outside entirely.

Honestly, it looked a little too creepy for Hange’s taste. Like the room of a madman. A madman who had kidnapped a young girl. A madman, who without hesitation had killed an innocent man and had almost killed her. Hange felt a shiver ran through her spine at that thought.

“Are you sure that your guys didn’t search the house?” Ackerman’s gruff voice brought her to the present.

“You think that someone broke in?”

“Possibly,” Ackerman nodded. “Either someone broke in, or Kenny just lost his mind.”

“And which one is more probable?”

Ackerman shrugged. “I’d say fifty-fifty.”

“Cool,” she rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine coming. “Amazing. Just awesome.” So she wasn’t only looking for a cruel criminal, but apparently he could be crazy as well. And she thought this case couldn’t get any worse. “Let’s start looking for clues then. Before your uncle arrives and decapitates me or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ackerman chided. “He won’t decapitate you. Just slash your throat.”

His dry delivery and his deadpan face made it hard for Hange to understand whether he was joking or not. She hoped he was. She liked her throat, and didn’t want it to be slashed.

“I’ll take the left part of the room,” she announced to Ackerman, immediately getting to work. The sooner they finish here, the lesser were chances of having her throat slashed. Probably.

As Hange kneeled on the floor, looking through papers scattered there, she couldn’t help but look around the room. And as she took a good look at it, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Why are you doing this?” she asked Ackerman.

He threw her a dark look. “By this you mean…”

“Why do you keep doing this?” she gestured around, “Stealing things, being criminals. You have enough as it is. Why not start doing honest work?”

“We’re stealing from rich assholes. You can hardly call it a crime.”

“Oh, I get it now,” Hange rolled her eyes. “Once a thief forever a thief, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Ackerman said curtly.

“And why not? Because I’m a cop?”

“Because you’re a cop, dressed in a coat that no cop should be able to afford.”

Affronted, Hange scowled at him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“That you grew up rich. That you don’t know what poverty or need is. That you have no idea that sometimes,” his eyes flashed, a deep-seated anger coming to surface. Hange wondered if all of it was directed on her alone. “Honest work isn’t enough.”

Logically, Hange knew it was her cue to back away. But she was riled up already, she was exhausted and frustrated. She was also annoyed that Ackerman had figured her out so easily. So instead of shutting up like she should have to, she kept challenging him. “And when exactly honest work isn’t enough?”

“When your mother dies because you can’t pay her medical bills.”

Ackerman spoke quietly, calmly. His tone wasn’t angry or accusing. He didn’t even sound hurt. But Hange felt like the most disgusting piece of shit. Shame cursed through her, as she struggled to find her words, to apologize or— do something rathan than stare helplessly at him.

“Let’s get back to work,” he said, ending the heavy silence.

Hange nodded numbly, scooping a bunch of papers in her hands. She briefly glanced at them, but nothing seemed to hold any importance. There were some bills, checks, half-finished plans, written so messily Hange could barely decipher most of the words. There was nothing that could link Kenny Ackerman to the disappearance of Krista Lenz. Still, Hange persisted, forcing her thoughts to focus on the case, and not on the argument that had transpired moments ago.

It seemed stupid, ridiculous, she was so angry with Ackerman, but now she felt ashamed of her careless words. She was ashamed of being so naïve, so privileged. She knew she was lucky, luckier than most to be born in a wealthy family and have access to everything she needed or wanted. Not everyone was as fortunate as her, and some of people ended up just as Ackermans – driven to the life of crime by poverty and desperation. After all, most of the criminals didn’t choose this way of living, but Hange had forgotten about that. She let her single-minded determination cloud her perception and abandon her principals and initial reason for joining the force.

So fixed on catching criminals, she had forgotten that she wanted to help people, including those, who were lost or didn’t know better.

Hange felt the need to apologize to Ackerman. He was an asshole in his own right, but her cruelty and prejudice was uncalled for. She was better than this. At least, she hoped so.

So lost in her own thoughts, Hange missed the moment when Ackerman had moved from his kneeling position on the floor. Now he stood next to a long desk, gazing at it skeptically.

“If there is something worthy in this pile of shit, it’s gotta be here,” he explained to the confused Hange.

Still sitting on a floor, she watched how Ackerman opened the lowest drawer of the desk, throwing everything that was inside on the floor. More papers fell out. Once the drawer was empty, Ackerman pressed on something inside and revealed a hidden bottom drawer.

A secret compartment! Hange jumped to his side.

He was already shifting through the documents he found inside, his face as bored as ever. “Shit, I think there is nothing important her—”

“Wait!” Hange yelled, yanking a photo from between his fingers. Her eyes wide and mouth open, she stared at it. She knew that face, that face was staring accusingly at her for a whole week now, pushing Hange to find its owner. Linked to that photo was a birth certificate, and it bewildered Hange even more.

“What is it?” Ackerman rose on tiptoes, looking over her shoulder. “Did you find something?”

“I guess I did,” Hange slowly nodded, her eyes still glued to the photo and the document. “It appears we’ve been wrong. We aren’t looking for Krista Lenz. We’re searching for Historia.”

#i'll let you on a little secret: i'm so excited for the next chapter! one of the best snk characters is going to make an appearance!#and no it's not moblit #(sorry moblit ilysm)#levihan

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

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Title: infinitely varied Ship: obikin Summary: Sometimes your husband decides to develop an artificial intelligence capable of free choice and something called a soul and succeeds in the middle of a Thursday night. Or, more concretely: he's in the middle of succeeding because said intelligence first has to learn how to speak.Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. AN: Happy birthday @ghostwriterofthemachine

Language is a process of free creation; its laws and principles are fixed, but the manner in which the principles of generation are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretation and use of words involves a process of free creation.

Noam Chomsky

Life was a query of expectations, margins on doorframes, bucket lists, first loves, broken hearts, and happy middles because only fools would settle for a happy ending when they had so many decades left to live. The thought never failed to bring a smile to Anakin’s face, no matter how frustrated, remembering the simple way Obi-Wan had proposed. There had been no fancy dinner, particularly stunning outing, or anything resembling outlandish romantic gestures. Anakin would have appreciated them because every act would have been colored by Obi-Wan’s love, but now, older and wiser than the rash youth who’s fallen in love at first heated debate, he preferred the way their proposal had actually gone down. A quiet Sunday morning, eating breakfast together on the sofa while the news droned in the background from Anakin’s old radio, a hesitant “I don’t need forever, but I want the present”.

And, well, for all his genius, Anakin could be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but not when it came to this.

Married life was interesting.

Somehow nothing changed, except also everything. They had bought a real house, moved out of their old apartment and made more compromises than Anakin had ever thought himself capable of, for they hadn’t been like fighting an uphill battle but dancing together. It had made him happy to paint the entrance hall in the shade of green Obi-Wan preferred if he got to paint the kitchen in the light blue he wanted.

Obi-Wan got the attic for his office where his antique book collection looked right at home, and Anakin got the basement where the hum of his servers and the generator powering them annoyed nobody else.

It was as close to white-picket-fence as it could be with two queer men, no kids, a bratty cat, and an anxious dog under one roof. His childhood self would be appalled to see how much Anakin, always the whirlwind, had settled. To a nine-year-old, Anakin probably looked very adult.

Anakin, however, did not feel very grown-up, banging his head against his desk in the middle of the night. Obi-Wan had gone to sleep hours ago, and so had Anakin until inspiration had struck and he’d snuck out of bed to return to his favorite project.

A.H.S.O.K.A may not be a child, but Anakin certainly could relate to exhausted parents when they complained about their children in endless repetitions. To this day, Anakin didn’t know why his mother figured it would be great parenting to encourage her WarGames obsessed kid to dig into the world of artificial intelligence when WOPR nearly started a nuclear war, but he’d forever remain thankful.

Or, he’d resume being thankful when he could finally get A.H.S.O.K.A to learn. He’d rewritten her code a thousand times. It was his ever-constant companion, from his first awful-looking early 2000s website to its current incarnation. A.H.S.O.K.A could solve simple logic puzzles, given that he fed her enough data. Her solutions to tasks could be downright hilarious, but they were not enough. He wanted her to be smarter, better, capable of gaining true understanding.

Perhaps, it was a dream for the future and not a Thursday night.

Anakin didn’t have any work tomorrow morning as he worked as a freelancer, so he could afford to pull an all-nighter. But his dear husband had planned a nice afternoon for them, so Anakin should call it a night or a morning as a glance at the clock told him.

Staring at the many lines of code again, Anakin sighed and leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his by-now cold tea. Obi-Wan would definitely complain that Anakin had snatched his favorite mug once he got up and couldn’t find it in the kitchen. Anakin had bought it at the last linguistic convention Obi-Wan had taken him to.

Language is a process of free invention, it read in delicate cursive before the rest of the quote disassembled in pure chaos.

Huh.

Now there was a thought. Anakin got out of his chair and left the basement, haunted by fixed principles and infinite combinations. Up in the attic, carrying Obi-Wan’s computer downstairs again, Anakin thought on interpretations and free creations. He was as giddy and nervous as he’d been on the morning of his wedding day, which had started similarly early. Connecting Obi-Wan’s computer, and more importantly, the priced result of his thesis, to Anakin’s server felt a little like unwrapping birthday presents.

language_acquisition_prediction.exe

Enter.

II.

Obi-Wan was not surprised when he woke to an empty bed. Anakin had a habit of suddenly pulling all-nighters or getting up early before the sun even thought of rising. Given that he couldn’t smell breakfast yet, Obi-Wan deduced that Anakin had pulled an all-nighter again. He slowly crawled out of bed to avoid disturbing Artoo and Threepio sleeping to his feet. Obi-Wan was pretty sure he shared his bed more often with his pets than he did with his husband.

He walked down the stairs to the ground level and went by the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of tea. To his displeasure, Obi-Wan couldn’t find his favorite mug and so had to settle for another. After another thought, he decided to make a second one for Anakin, lavender this time so Anakin would hopefully crash after breakfast. He put both mugs on a small tray together with a couple tomatoes. Obi-Wan usually wasn’t one for eating a full breakfast on workdays – that was the influence of Anakin and his mother’s kitchen – but he was the expert in smalltime snacks. With both in hand, he walked down the second flight of stairs, down to the basement. As expected, he found Anakin at his desk, clinging to what was bound to be a cold cup, staring intensely at his screens, which were running one program or another.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted him and kissed Anakin’s cheek.

“Mo-orning,” Anakin replied, a yawn interrupting him halfway. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Eight,” Obi-Wan said. “How long have you been up?”

“Uuuh.” Obi-Wan didn’t need to see Anakin’s face to know the answer. “Did you even go to sleep?”

“I did sleep for a while!” Anakin argued. “But then I had an idea, I mean, look at this!”

Obi-Wan gave the screens a closer look. Despite common misconceptions, he was not technically illiterate. Privately, he blamed the fact that Anakin was quite well known for his tech know-how and Obi-Wan tended to talk more about literature given that he was filling in as a lecturer in the British Lit. department. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan had gotten his professorship with a program he’d written, and the code currently displayed on the screens looked very similar to a section that had given him stress nightmares. “Is that my thesis?” he asked.

“Yes, sorta, partially?” Anakin replied. “I kind of took it apart a lot and maybe corrupted it a bit, but that’s not the important part! Look what she’s doing with it.”

She could only refer to one person, intelligence. There were a few constants in their life, their new house the most recent one, and Ahsoka was probably the longest. Obi-Wan didn’t know why Anakin hadn’t set her aside already, he was happy enough to leave other started-never-finished projects lying around, but the last time he’d even just suggested such, Anakin had looked heartbroken.

Obi-Wan looked at the screen Anakin was pointing at and began to read.

script input: inhibition auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˌɪn.ɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˌɪn.hɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: outstanding

script input: better auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˈbet̬.ɚ/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˈbet.ər/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: rhoticism? query: define

The text continued for a while, though apparently Ahsoka only picked out the mismatched parts in her analysis.

“Is that ‘Must have done something right’?” Obi-Wan asked, the connection between the words suddenly starting to make sense.

“Yes!” Anakin grinned. “I wasn’t quite sure how to teach her sounds properly because I hadn’t equipped her with a sound analysis program before and I figured that if babies just learn by listening to their parents, Ahsoka could learn by listening to us.”

“So you fed her audio of us singing?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, confused, or just plain tired but decided to settle on confusion for now and let the course of the conversation determine where they’d end up.

“That too, but I actually just started by playing old voice messages. I figured getting her used to just one phonetic inventory would be enough for now. Honestly, for the first hour, I wasn’t even sure whether that would be of any use because she had no symbols to connect the sounds to, and I thought using the IPA might bias her.”

Because, of course, Anakin never deleted any of Obi-Wan’s voice messages and just kept them on his phone. The fact that he just glossed over it as if it weren’t anything special either made Obi-Wan smile.

“It’s cute that you think we have the same inventory,” Obi-Wan commented. “But continue. You just let her listen to sounds and then? Don’t tell me you gave her written texts.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and confirmed another one of Ahsoka’s queries before answering. “No, I gave her the IPA then and let her listen to the full inventory and then analyze which ones we use.”

That made enough sense. Obi-Wan was reasonably sure it was a great deal more complicated than Anakin was lying it out right now, but it was still within the realm of possible and not downright sci-fi. There were enough programs that could analyze speech and filter out patterns, recognize even emotions and tone. Feeding data to a computer wasn’t too different from the way babies learned, though, as far as Obi-Wan knew from talking to people with children, they didn’t like their progeny being compared to lines of code.

“And you accomplished this by feeding my thesis program, which is meant to predict the language acquisition of children, to Ahsoka?”

“Yes, that, uh, happened more or less,” Anakin said, his nose scrunched up just so that Obi-Wan knew he wasn’t certain. “I’m pretty sure I like, wrote some of it down. Not all of it because I knocked out at like 4 a.m., which resulted in pretty interesting inquiries on the great vowel shift.”

Obi-Wan froze. “She’s asking about the great vowel shift?”

There was a difference in the size of the Atlantic between analyzing sounds and recognizing a six-hundred-year-old change in pronunciation.

“Not really,” Anakin said. “She just noticed the patterns? And had inquiries? We’ve been following up on it since, mostly by also giving her written text, but I think that might have backfired and confused her a bit. I’m thinking of synching up the input with a visible feed so she’d learn to associate an actual object with the sound, but I’m not sure whether that wouldn’t just lead to her matching data instead of actually learning its relevance. Can teach an AI what an apple looks like, sounds like, tastes like, but that doesn’t mean you can teach it what an apple is and all that.”

Anakin smiled impishly, and unfortunately, despite his generally messy appearance, Obi-Wan still thought he was handsome. “Please don’t cite my book back at me like that.”

Closing his eyes for a moment and pinching his nose, Obi-Wan tried to focus. This was not how he expected to start his free day. He needed to wake up and possibly grab his notes to sort out this mess. This almost made him wish the car was still wrecked and Anakin would spend all his free time fixing that. “Did you have to start her on English of all languages?”

Anakin was fluent in two other romance languages; it would have been much easier to deal with a French AI than an English one. Sighing, Obi-Wan looked at Ahsoka’s latest question and promptly frowned.

script input: bear auditory input: /beər/ match found: bare analysis: mismatch diagnosis: failed word formation query: bear = bare? query: deletion >bare<?

“How long has she been doing that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Doing what— oh, that’s new.”

So Ahsoka had jumped from matching sounds to text to comparing sound to words and then referencing those words against one another. That was a logical step, but also a step Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure she should be doing without prompting.

“She thinks bear and bare are related because they have the same sound. Didn’t really expect that turn of events. Should I show her those are two different words?”

“Does she even know what a word is yet?” Obi-Wan asked in turn.

“No.”

“Then teach her what a word is first— after breakfast. I want your pancakes.”

“You never want pancakes on a Friday.”

“My husband also never decided to rope me into teaching an artificial intelligence morphology before.”

Obi-Wan needed a proper meal for this. He could talk to his students on an empty stomach, but he could not deal with the latest brand of Skywalker insanity without something sweet first.

“I haven’t—”

Ever the negotiator, Obi-Wan decided to shut Anakin up with a kiss. “After breakfast.”

Ahsoka’s many questions could wait for an hour.

#star wars #obikin #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #fanfic

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chemist-ana · 4 years ago

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Chapter 13 The Morning After— Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Vivan and Mason Dalton

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N I know there are a lot of people that do not like Sam Dalton- that being said, this chapter was especially difficult for me to write, because I am trying to give him a redeeming character arc. As a person that is involved with the family business, I can understand to a degree where he is coming from with the guilt and what he chooses some of the decisions he does. BUT please do not forgot that MC is culpable and definitely at fault as well. There are definitely some cringe worthy things in this chapter- but I hope y'all love it! Also a super big thank you for @txemrn for talking me through some of these ideas and for being the queen of angst. Love you p.

Summary: In the cold light of day, will you and Ana be able to face the consequences of your actions?

Word Count: 5800

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383 @chrissythadon @shannonwrote @jerzwriter

The sound of my footsteps, my labored breathing, and the early morning traffic are the only sounds in my ears, as I push my legs faster through Central Park. I reach up and wipe at the sweat that is beading on my brow, silently cursing the wretched New York, humid, summer mornings.

I usually run with music blasting in my ears… but I decided this morning to torture myself, and I can’t decide whether its working. The sounds of Ana’s moans echo through my mind, as steady as my heart beats. I see a gorgeous blonde running towards me and I give her a crooked smile as our eyes connect. She just about trips on the pavement before composing herself mid stride and continues past me, avoiding my gaze.

Well that didn’t help.

I push myself harder in the last few hundred yards of my run, and when my building finally comes into view, I slow down to a walk, reaching my arms up to catch my breath.

“Good morning, Mr. Dalton.” The morning doorman greets as he opens the door to the lobby for me.

“Thanks, Felix.” I nod as I breeze past him, waving my keycard at the scanner to my penthouse elevator.

When the door dings open, I hold my breath as I walk quietly through the still living room, everyone is still sleeping. I stop outside of Ana’s door. Resting my hands on her door frame and closing my eyes. I take a deep breath, what the fuck happened last night… I walk into my master bathroom, turning the shower water on cold.

My brain delves into the guilt that is sitting heavy on my shoulders. The guilt that I have for the years I spent fucking off in college instead of setting myself up for my future. The guilt I have for losing Eva. The guilt I have for hiring Ana… And now to add more… the guilt that I have for fucking her last night. What the fuck were you thinking? I tilt my head up into the cold water, letting the shock send a shudder down my spine.

My life has revolved around this family business… watching the countless hours my father has spent building it from nothing into this global conglomerate. The knowledge that one day, this would all be mine. The endless chiding from my father to fit into his mold of what the perfect CEO would be. Married with children. I have truly never been in control of my life… even when I married Eva. I thought she was the one… but now that I have Ana… stop it you fool, you don’t have Ana… she deserves better than your spineless tricks. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am i doing? I reach up and rest my hands on the shower wall, letting my head lull forward.

What the fuck happens next?

***

“Good morning.” I greet the twins and Ana as I round the corner into the kitchen.

“Morning, dad.” The boys look at me with defeated looks, I’m guessing it has something to do with the beige mush in their bowls.

I cast a quick glance at Ana as a blush creeps up her neck.

“Ana? Are you alright?”

She shakes her head slightly before looking at me.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about last night.” Her eyes linger on mine.

The all too clear memory of her moans and the feel of her body come flooding back into my mind again, but I quickly shove them away as I stare back at her.

“Yeah! Carter said you went to that fancy party thing with Dad!” My eyes flick to Mason as he sets his spoon down.

“Did you pull any pranks?” Mickey asks with a smile.

“Not this time. Maybe we just needed someone to show us how it’s done.” I look between them.

“I’d rather stay home and eat pizza, thanks!” Mickey’s eyes grow wide as he takes another bite of his mush, god that doesn’t look good at all.

I grab a cup of coffee and turn to walk towards my office.

“Can we talk later?” Ana whispers as she leans in close to me.

My stomach drops and I feel my body stiffen. I don’t spare her a glance before answering. “… Yes. Later.”

Without another word I head to my home office, leaving a stunned Ana behind. I can feel her gaze as I round the corner and close the door quietly behind me.

I don't know what to say to you yet, Ana…

I sit down in my Wegner chair, switching the Tiffany Lamp on. I rub my hands down my face with a sigh. The silence is broken by the ringing of my cell phone, I glance down and my fathers name is flashing on the screen.

“Hey, dad.” I set my phone on my desk and turned it on speaker.

“Sam, things in Italy are not clearing up. I need you there to fix this mess.”

I let out a sharp exhale through my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“This is pretty short notice.”

“After what happened in Milan, LEMA is having some hesitations as to our abilities to run a company that handles sensitive medical information. I don't think I need to tell you how important this deal is. We need to take care of this ourselves, unless you want me to send Robin?” I can hear the challenge in his voice as my chest constricts.

“How long do you think I will be there?” I ask, avoiding his antagonizing, my mind flashing to the boys… and then to Ana..

“Does it matter, Sam? As long as it takes. I already spoke with Sofia, she is going to go with you. I have some briefs and copies of all the contracts being sent to your office now. You will need to read them all to get caught up. I also scheduled you the jet for tomorrow morning.”

My head falls back as I close my eyes.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah, dad, I heard you. I will be there soon.”

“I’ll be in your office at noon.” He ends the call.

I glance down at my watch, it's already 11. FUCK.

I look at my office door, time to do whatever needs to be done.

I walk quietly through the penthouse, running over the words in my head. I hear the twins in their room, and I decide to start with them. When I see Ana putting their laundry away, my breath gets caught in my throat. At least you only have to say this once…

“I’m about to go into the office, but I wanted to talk to you first.” I say as I walk into their room.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Ana turns towards me. I move further into the twins room and take a seat on the edge of the lower bunk bed. Mason and Mickey stand in front of me.

“What’s wrong, Dad? You look sad…” Mason’s face drops when he notices my crestfallen expression.

“I’m not… sad. I just know you’re not going to like what I have to say.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat.

“Then you gotta just rip it off. Like a Band-Aid.” Mickey smiles.

“Right, like a Band-Aid.” I keep my eyes fixed on the twins but I can feel the heat from Ana’s gaze. “I have to go to Italy for a business trip… as soon as possible.”

A silence settles over the room as the twins look between themselves..

“What? You’re fleeing the country, just like that?” Ana breaks the palpable silence.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘fleeing’. Dalton Enterprises has been in negotiations for months, and after the Milan breach… well my dad just doesn’t trust anyone else to handle it.”

“What about us?” Mason murmurs sadly.

“Aunt Sofia isn’t staying here, is she?” Mickey's eyes are wide.

“No, she’ll be in Naples with me. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone. You’ll have Ana.” I turn to face Ana and her gaze is focused on the twins, but I can see the hurt in her emerald eyes.

“Let’s not overreact here. It’s just a flight and some meetings, right? I bet your dad will be back before you know it.” A smile trains on the corners on her lips as she tries to brighten the mood.

I wish that was all…

“Actually… depending on the negotiations, I could be gone a couple months.”

“A couple months?” Mickey shouts.

“But… that’s the rest of summer.” I look at Mason and see only one thing: disappointment.

“Seriously, Sam? That’s so long! For the boys I mean.” Her eyes fall to the floor.

“My parents were often overseas for months at a time when I was younger. They’ll survive.” I hate the words as they leave my lips.

“But don't you want them to do more than just survive?” She looks up at me in concern.

“I’m trying to not let emotions cloud my judgement here. I don't have a choice in the matter.” I clench my jaw.

“You always have a choice, Sam.” Her eyes hold mine.

I take a deep breath turning my attention back to the twins.

“Can we at least come visit you while you’re gone?” Mason is picking at a piece of string that is fraying from his blanket.

“Of course, buddy. I’m sure we can work something out. In the meantime, why doesn’t Ana take you two out for the day?” I rest my hands on the twins' shoulders. “I’ve got to prepare for my trip, but we’ll have a special dinner tonight before I go. Promise.” I wrap my arms around them and bring them tight to my sides. I wish I didn't have to leave you… someday you will understand. I hope.

I walk out of the twins room, avoiding the heat from Ana’s gaze as she watches me.

***

The words all run together as I sit at my desk and try to read the briefs from Italy. My office door opens and my eyes meet my fathers’s as he strolls in and sits in the leather chair in front of me.

“Did you read all of those?” He asks gruffly, his eyes flicking down to the papers that are strewn across my desk.

I collect all of them into a stack as I avoid his gaze. “I got the jist.”

A silence settles between us and I can feel his eyes trained on me. When I finally raise my gaze, he narrows his eyes and his mouth sets in a thin line. “What’s going on with you, Sam?”

“Nothing, Dad, I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Don’t insult me, I know you better than that. You are distracted, you have been since your mother and I got back from Italy. Have you been drinking too much again?”

I raise my brow at him incredulously. “Dad.”

“Is it that pretty nanny of yours?” He says mockingly.

My eyes fall to the stack of papers.

“Oh, son. Really?”

“No, dad, it-it’s not her.” Boy that wasn't very convincing.

“Yes it is. I know that look.” A long silence stretches and I avoid his gaze. “Remember Pam?”

I meet his eyes. “Aunt Pam, your old secretary?”

He purses his lips and nods. He takes a deep breath, clearly warring with what he wants to say next. “It only lasted a few months, and your mother knows nothing about this.”

“Wait, you had an affair?”

“It’s not something I am proud of. But let me tell you something. Women like her, and your nanny…” He waves his hand dismissively. “Are only good for one thing, son.” He leans forward in his chair and arches his brow. “And it’s not making you the man that you need to be to run this company.” He leans back, steepling his fingers on his knees. “Now, a woman like Sofia, that is who is going to take you far in life, and bring you where you need to be.”

I’m fucking speechless. I can’t defend my honor, or Ana’s. Because what if he’s right?

***

My phone dings with a text, Ana.

Ana: Heading back, ETA 20 min

Ana: You need us to pick anything up on our way?

Ana: Or do you have the special dinner all planned out?

Fuck. I’m not getting out of here for at least another hour.

Sam: About that…

Ana: Why am I not surprised? This is becoming your MO.

I clench my jaw.

Sam: What’s that supposed to mean?

Ana: You’re a smart man. Figure it out.

I whisper a quiet fuck and I see Robin’s head snap up.

“Trouble at home?” He asks, as a cocky smile spreads across his face.

I ignore him.

Sam: Ana…

Ana: I’ll take care of dinner for the boys sake. But you’d better come up with an AMAZING apology dessert for them.

Sam: I am sorry to bail on this

Sam: I will bring something home for dessert.

Sam: Okay?

She doesn't respond, and I pinch my eyes closed in frustration.

I turn back to the final pages of the contract with LEMA before sighing and throwing it to the table.

“Find anything?” Robin asks.

“No. And I need to go home. I need to spend what little time I have left in the city with the boys.”

“Go, I will make sure all of this makes it onto the jet tomorrow morning.” Robin leans back in his chair. “You know dad wants me with you tomorrow, right?”

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to him. “No. I was not aware of that.”

He shrugs his shoulders and crosses his leg over his knee. “Now you do.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, and decide against saying anything else. Can just one thing go my way today? I grab my keys and phone, stuffing them into my pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See ya.” He waves as I walk out of the door.

***

I walk into the foyer with my suitcase, setting it next to the elevator doors just as they ding open and Ana, Mason, and Mickey step out.

“Welcome back. Did you three have fun at the museum?” My eyes are locked on Ana, sadness filling her emerald eyes. My chest constricts as my thoughts are haunted by my fathers confession.

“The museum was alright but dinner was even better! We stopped at a food truck festival on the way home.” Mickey chimes.

“I tried a poke bowl!” Mason is vibrating with excitement.

“Really? Did you like it?” I ask him, surprised.

“It was amazing!” Mason cheered as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“And we got something for you!” Mickey gestures to the bag in Ana’s hands.

“That was thoughtful of you.” I look at Ana as she hands me the bag, not meeting my gaze.

“It was their idea.” She murmurs looking down at the boys.

I look inside of the paper bag, Kung Pao… god it's my favorite. “I love Kung Pao. How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.” Her tone is even and neutral. Distant.

“Right.” I take a breath, clearing my throat and turning back to the boys.

“Why don’t you two wash your hands, then head into the kitchen for your special dessert?” The boy's eyes widened.

“On it!” They race toward the bathroom, leaving Ana and I alone in the hallway. Still avoiding my eyes, she breezes past me into the kitchen. I follow her slowly, watching the soft sway of her hips.

“Ana.” She stops in her tracks and I see her shoulders tense.

“Yes?” She slowly turns towards me.

“Thank you for dinner, for both me and the boys. I shouldn’t have backed out of my promise to have a special meal with them.” My apology comes out even and measured as I watch her carefully.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She says matter of factly, her eyes finally rising to mine. She sighs softly. “And you’re welcome.”

“It really looks delicious.” I set the container on the counter, taking a big bite with a fork. My eyes are trained on hers and I can see her face soften.

“You’ve got a little…” She grabs a napkin, stepping up slowly and reaching up to wipe at my lip.

The smell of jasmine and Ana fill my senses as our breath mixes in the air between us.

“Oh…” I whisper in surprise at the intimate gesture.

“... All better.” She smiles softly up at me, her emerald eyes piercing. An electric charge lingering in the space between us.

The moment is broken when we hear the boys running towards us in the kitchen. She takes a step back, turning away from me.

“Dessert time!” Mickey cheers as he slides into the kitchen.

“What’re we having?” Mason shifts from foot to foot.

“I thought you’d like to make some s’mores…” I know they are your favorite.

“With the mega-big marshmallows?” Mickey’s eyes grow wide. God, I am going to miss these kids…

“Of course.” I match his smile and gesture towards the platter of s’mores supplies laid out on the counter.

“I’ll, uh, leave you three to it.” Ana says softly as she slowly backs out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going? You haven’t even had s'mores yet!” Mason turns to Ana.

“I don’t want to intrude on father-son bonding time with your last night together.” She smiles softly at Mason.

“You wouldn’t be intruding.” I say hopefully. Please stay…

“Still… you should have some privacy.” She holds my eyes for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the room. What have I done?

***

I am sitting in the dim lighting of my office. My fingers wrapped around a glass of Eagle Rare Bourbon as I gaze out of the window. My thoughts are a jumbled mess as I bring the tumbler to my lips. I hear the door open slowly and I glance over to see Ana enter quietly, clicking the door shut behind her.

“I thought I might see you again tonight.” I say as I turn my focus back towards the city lights outside.

“Sam, we need to talk about us.”

I can sense the sadness behind her words.

“Ana…” I sigh as I look at her with regret.

I see her shoulders tense as she balls her hands up into fists at her side. Red hot color rising on her cheeks.

“You owe me this, Sam. Don’t pretend like you don’t.” Anger drips from her every word.

I take a deep breath and give her a small nod, but I have no words. I get lost in my own thoughts again... You’re right… but I have no idea what to say to you. There is nothing I can do about this fucked up situation I put us in… I am so sorry that I dragged you into this mess. I am a selfish man that longs to be with you… but I have no control.

“We had sex last night, Sam.” Her voice cracks.

My chest tightens.

“I haven’t forgotten.” My eyes still trained on the city lights outside.

“It feels like you want to. In fact, it feels like you’re running halfway around the world because of it.”

My breathing gets shallow as she takes a step towards me, the anger rolling off of her in waves.

“You’re a lot of things, Sam, but I never took you for a coward.” Her voice laced with contempt as she stepped in front of me.

My eyes flick to hers as a new emotion bubbles to the surface: anger.

“A coward?” I whisper as I lift to my feet and we stand face-to-face.

“You heard me.” She tips her nose in the air. “You could have walked away last night.”

I can't help the humorless laugh that escapes my lips. How does she not understand that I cannot control myself around her?

“I wish that were true.” It would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier. God help me, I can’t resist you.I reach up and run my fingertips down her cheek, watching her shudder at my touch, but her expression remains guarded and angry.. “I’ve been trying to walk away from you since the moment we met. Yet somehow… I always end up back here.”

She steps back out of my reach, crossing her arms in front of her chest. My eyes scan down the length of her body.

“That’s not good enough, Sam.” Her eyes bore into mine.

God Dammit woman.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Ana. The timing of this trip may seem suspicious to you, but I don’t want to go. I have to go.” I take a step toward her, narrowing my eyes. “And every time I look at you, it’s a reminder of what I’m leaving behind.”

Her eyes widen as her anger starts to slip. “Really? You aren’t relieved to have an escape?”

“No! This is so much worse.” I take a deep breath, trying to reign in my anger. My urge to control her and have her bare before me is making my cock twitch. I watch as Ana turns and steps to the window. The war inside of my head battles on before I finally give in. I step up behind her, running my nose along the sensitive skin below her ear before grabbing her hips and pulling her against me. I feel her body melt into mine. She turns to face me, and I place my hands on either side of her head, the cold glass a welcome reprieve from the heat coursing through my veins. I press my desire against her and I watch as her eyes darken.

“Sam, you should fire me now.” She whispers. “Neither one of us has the strength to resist. Stopping cold turkey is the only answer. You go to Italy, conquer the business world, marry Sofia. I’ll move out and find something else. We both walk away, hands clean. Well… as clean as they can be.”

I can see it in her eyes that she doesn’t believe the words she is saying, but it doesn't stop them from stinging my heart.

“My hands aren’t clean, Ana. How can they be, when I think about you every time I touch myself?” My eyes flick down to her plump, pink lips. “Or when I want to murder the next man who touches you?”

“Then what’s the endgame here? What do you want?” She pleads, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I want you, dammit.” I confess.

She grabs the lapels of my suit and pulls me even closer to her curves,

“Prove it.” She challenges, her eyes dark.

She brings her lips to mine and our lips ignite into a frenzy of heat and frustration. I bring my arms around to her lower back and pull her hips snug to mine. A sudden feeling of regret passes through my mind and I pull back, a question in my eyes.

“Ana…” I warn.

“Don’t think. Just feel.” She purrs as she pushes my jacket off of my shoulders. She runs her fingernails across the back of my neck softly before pulling my lips down to hers again. I grab her hips, spinning her around and pinning her back against the cold glass of the window. She gasps at the sensation as I grab her wrists and pin them over her head. I use my free hand to roam the planes of her curves, her body igniting under my touch.

“Sam...” She moans as her eyes flutter shut.

I find the hem of her shirt and dive underneath, finding the lace of her bra, I run my fingers along the gentle curve of her breasts. Her chest heaving and pushing her perfect body into my eager hands.

“Has it really only been a day since I last touched you like this?” I whisper against her lips. “Already feels like a lifetime ago…”

She arches her back, pressing deeper into me as I let out an involuntary moan. God the things this woman does to me…

“Can you really go the rest of the summer without this?” I can feel her smile against my lips.

“I can’t even go the next five minutes without it.” I admit as my cock hardens uncomfortably in my pants.

I reach down and cup her ass, picking her up and carrying her to my desk. I sweep everything off of my desk and lay her down. Her emerald eyes dark with desire as she watches me remove every article of her clothing, throwing them haphazardly around the room. Her chest rises and falls, and her lips are swollen with our kisses. I kiss each piece of newly exposed flesh, the soft moans coming from her lips a sound of pleasure and surrender.

“God, I want to eat you up…” I say against her hip. She looks down at me and takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’ve gotta earn that privilege.” A challenge in her eyes as she sits up and places her hands on my chest, pushing me away from her. Her nearly naked body glowing in the colored light from the Tiffany Lamp.

“Ana?” I ask.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Sam.” She purrs. “And you know what that means, I’m going to tie you up.”

“Fuck.” I whisper and her words send another surge of heat and desire through me. I watch as she gracefully slides off of the desk, motioning for me to sit down in my chair.

“Wait. Undress first.” She leans in and skims her fingers across my chest, then tugs lightly on the flap of my shirt. “I don't want to have to deal with this later.”

You naughty, fucking minx.

I quickly strip off my clothes, my eyes never leaving hers as I take a seat in my chair, resting my arms on the armrests. I watch her carefully as she digs through a drawer in my desk, pulling two spare computer cords out. I watch as her steady hands tie my forearms and wrists to the chair. My eyes travel across her barely clothed body and I think of all the things I wish to do to her perfect ass.

She steps back, a look of pride flashing across her eyes.

“Aren’t you a sight?” She smiles as she looks at me hungrily.

“Ana…” I murmur.

I tried to move my arms, but she did a damn good job tying me down.

“This isn’t fair. I want to touch you.”

“Oh… You want to talk about not fair?” She clenches her jaw as she saunters up to me, the movement of her hips accentuated by the delicate fabric. “Everything that’s happened today hasn’t been fair.” Her eyes narrow at me as she leans towards me. She is careful not to touch me but I can feel the electricity crackling between us. Her perfect breasts are right in front of my face and I know she can feel my hot breath against them. “And now you’re being punished for it.” She stands up and gracefully hops back up onto my desk.

She leans back, spreading her legs wide open, revealing every single perfect inch of her perfect body to me. I watch her fingers slide down her curves until they come to rest between her legs, slipping underneath her panties to rub at her center.

Fuck me.

“Ohmygod…” I moan as my cock hardens more than I even thought possible. The throbbing is almost unbearable as I watch her fingers spread the moisture that is pooling in between her legs. Her head lulls back as moans escape her lips.

“Ohh, YES!” She cries out, her body tensing.

My eyes are trained on her perfect cunt as she worships it with her fingers. My breathing is growing labored as I think about all the things I want to do. Her hips are bucking as she nears her edge.

“Ana, please…. Let me touch you.” I beg, my voice husky. I can’t help but lick my lips as I think about her sweetness.

Her eyes open and her fingers slow as she considers me.

“I don't know… Have you been punished enough yet?” She smiles.

“No… but I can’t make it up to you properly unless you let me touch you. Please.” I am not above begging at this point.

She leans forward, and I watch her untie the cords from my wrists. As soon as I can tell that I am free, I reach up, grabbing her body and hauling it into mine. I bring my lips to hers and kiss her deeply, tasting her, reveling in the feel of our tongues together. I stand up, pressing her back down on the desk and I grab the delicate lace of her panties and push them down her thighs.

“I haven't been able to think about anything else all day…” I whisper against her lips. I can feel her smile. “You drive me to distraction even when you aren’t spread out in front of me…”

“And now?” She asks as she arches her back up off the desk.

I trace a delicate line up her bare legs, slowly teasing my way to her center.

“And now… I can barely control myself. I want to devour you.” I growl.

She leans back and spreads her legs wider.

I stand up and run my eyes slowly over every single piece of her exposed flesh, she blushes that delicious color.

The most beautiful thing I have ever fucking scene.

“Yes… I love seeing you open like this for me.” I murmur as my eyes scan her body over and over again, lingering on her exposed cunt.

I drop to my knees, and lower my mouth between her thighs as I lap up her pooling moisture. I watch as her eyes flutter closed, her eyelashes laying like fans across her cheeks. Her breathing intensities and her moans echo around the room. She calls out my name in ecstasy.

“If you want me to make this up to you properly, then you can’t come yet.” I challenge her. “Can you do that, Ana? Can you hold back until I tell you?” I punctuate my question with a devilish twirl of my tongue and she gasps.

“Yes! Sam… bring it on. I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t hold back.” She is panting and her perfect cunt is dripping for me. Her eyes find mine and I can see the challenge accepted. Good girl.

I trail kisses back to her center, dipping and tasting her pooling wetness. So fucking sweet. Her body shivers as I continue to flick my tongue against her. I reach down and grab my aching cock, running my hand up and down the throbbing shaft.

“Oh god… I’m gonna…” Her body starts to tense and my pumping increases.

“Already? I thought you said you could take it.” I say, my lips moving against her.

I feel her body tremble as she moans.

“Ohmygod, that feels… Sam, don’t stop.”

Never, beautiful. I will never stop doing this to you.

I groan out her name as the pleasure in my body nears the edge, my tongue continuing to flick at her exposed flesh. I call out her name as I find my release and I feel her body tense as she cries out mine. We ride out each other's orgasm, ecstasy blinding me.

Eventually her body sags against the desk, her breathing rapid. I stand up and wrap my arms around her body, bringing her tight to me as our breathing slows.

I untangle myself from her and we both stand and get dressed in a silence that is thick with tension.

The reality of what just happened hits me hard as I watch her button up her silk blouse.

Fuck. Again. No fucking control, Dalton, you total fuck up.

Without a word she moves towards the door, lingering with her hand on the door knob.

“Sam, I-”

“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn't mean to get so carried away. It won’t happen again.” I interrupt her, saying the only thing I can think of at this moment… words I regret as soon as they escape my lips.

I watch as confusion spreads across her face and she gives me a silent nod.

“My flight leaves early. I’ll be gone before you wake up…” I say softly.

“Oh. I see. I guess this is… goodbye.” She looks down at the floor, her fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. She wraps her arms around herself and slowly begins to slip out of the door.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. You deserve so much better than me.”

My words halt her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder at me, and I see her eyes shining.

“I can decide what I ‘deserve’ for myself.” She walks out of the room without another word, and I am left even more pissed with myself than I was this morning. I sit down at my desk and run my hands through my hair.

She’s right… you are being a coward. I am avoiding this shit storm I created for myself by running away…

I sip another glass of bourbon as I come to the only solution I can think of: postpone my trip to Italy, and even though it will probably bite me in the ass… Ana and the boys have to come with me. My stomach sours at the thought of Robin getting a hand on this before me… but I shove the thought aside.

That's it.

***

I nurse my second cup of coffee as I watch the sunrise through the windows. I hear soft footsteps walking down the hallway and I swallow my nerves. Ana rounds the corner and stops short when she sees me, a glimmer of hope and surprise flashing through her eyes.

“Sam?! What’re you going here? I heard you leave this morning…”

“I did a lot of thinking last night, but I didn’t come to a conclusion in time to cancel my car earlier.” I try to control my excitement.

“What conclusion?” She asks carefully.

“That you were right. I was being a coward and running away from my problems. I sent Robin ahead and postponed my meetings to next week so I could do this right. I’m turning this business trip into a family vacation for all of us.” Her face lit up.

“You mean…” A smile playing on her lips.

“Pack your bags, Ana. You’re coming with me to Italy.”

#choices the stories you play #choices sam dalton #choices #choices fanfiction #choicestna #fanfic #choices fanfic writers creations #n*fw #the nanny affair #sam dalton #m!sam dalton #m!sam x mc

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captainscanadian · 4 years ago

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Long Way Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: As Dr. Barnes is about to begin his new job at Massachusetts General Hospital, he gets to work on a patient who was once involved in making medical history.

Word Count: 1870

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: Heart Disease, Hospital, Surgery.

A/N: Give it up for another clusterfuck from yours truly. Thanks to my dearest @dramadreamer14 for the beta, as always. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS! Divider by @firefly-graphics <3

September 29, 2020 - Boston, Massachusetts

For as long as she could remember, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N had followed a strict morning routine. She began her day with a 5 am wake up call and a cold shower to get rid of the remaining slumber, followed by her usual forty minute drive to Massachusetts General Hospital while sipping on a freshly prepared green juice. She parked at the same corner spot in the employee parking lot, and entered through the sliding double doors that led her inside of the emergency room. She always made a beeline for the cafeteria to pick up two cups of decaf, and then headed over to greet the Chief of Surgery.

The moment she entered the Chief’s office, she was quick to realize that things had changed. What was once the office of Dr. Anthony Edward Stark now belonged to a Dr. Steven Grant Rogers. “Oh- shit. I totally forgot.” How could she forget that Tony was gone?

Change was the only thing in life that never changed. But Tony had been the one constant in her life. A part of her refused to accept that he was gone, even though she knew that it was his time to go. It’s what he had claimed, and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was having to see Steve replace him. Not that he did not deserve the position or anything, but in her mind, no one could ever replace Tony Stark.

“Good morning to you too, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve greeted the woman as he looked up from his emails, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he saw her enter his office with a sunken look on her face. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I was only gone for two days, Steve.” She let out a sigh as she walked up to his desk. “I didn’t think you would already manage to redecorate.” Not that it mattered, as it was Steve’s office now. But it was safe to say that a part of Y/N refused to accept that Tony had retired, and that Steve was the new Chief of Surgery. She had to keep repeating it in her head, hoping that her fucked up heart could eventually come to accept it.

Steve was one of the few people at Massachusetts General Hospital who knew of Y/N’s relationship with Tony. She had been his patient long before she began working for him. Even after all those years, the two of them had shared a close bond. He knew that she might have a hard time adjusting to the fact that her beloved boss had left his post, only to be replaced so quickly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve frowned as he closed his laptop, eyeing the extra cup of what he assumed what decaf that she had set on his desk. “I’m sure Tony misses you as much as you miss him.”

“No, he doesn’t.” She shook her head, laughing softly. “He’s probably glad that he’s finally gotten rid of me, if I’m being honest. He’s had to deal with me for thirty years.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Is that decaf for me?” Steve asked as he motioned towards the cup she was still holding.

With a pout on her lips, she gave him a nod. “If you don’t mind me bringing you one every morning. Tony and I always spend our mornings having decaf and bitching about you.”

“You and Tony bitch about me every morning?” He asked her, though he was not all that surprised by that revelation. “Did he really hate me that much?”

“If he hated you, he wouldn’t have asked you to be Chief when he was gone. He knows you’re a good surgeon, but he’s someone who doesn’t like to be challenged unless he’s going to win.” Y/N slid the cup of decaf towards him. “You were always giving him a run for his money, bud. He preferred to get it out of his chest before he starts his day.” She shrugged.

“Well, I’ll take the morning coffee. But as for the bitching, I’m sure our newest Chief of Cardio would be more than happy to join you in on that.” Steve remarked, cheekily.

Oh right, how could she forget about Tony’s other replacement? Steve was running the hospital, while some other doctor was coming in to run Tony’s department. Tony had even suggested that he would also be her doctor, but Y/N was going to be the judge of that. She may not have control over who would be her boss, but at least, she could have control over who got to be her doctor.

“Tony did say that he’s a friend of yours.” Y/N sipped her drink before looking up at Steve. “Do you think I should trust him with my life? You know, given that Tony’s the reason why I’m still alive.”

Steve knew why Y/N was apprehensive about having someone else take over as her doctor. If she was having a hard time accepting him as her boss, he could imagine how hard it would be to replace Tony as her doctor. While cardiothoracic surgery was not his specialty, he was well aware of Y/N’s condition, and the clinical trial that had saved her life. As a doctor, he could understand the patient’s concerns about transferring to another doctor, especially after thirty years of being treated by someone like Tony. But he had to reassure her, he would trust Bucky Barnes with his life.

“I would trust him with mine.” Steve admitted with a shrug. “You can call me biased, but Dr. Barnes is one of the most reputable heart surgeons in the country.”

“He’s not better than Tony.”

“No one can be better than Tony. But since he’s decided to put his scalpel down and focus on running his foundation from New York, you’re going to have to accept that I wouldn’t hire someone who did not live up to that standard.” He assured her.

“You hired him because he’s your best friend from college.” Y/N pointed out.

He knew that it was a call out, but he was simply going to ignore it. “I know you don’t like change, Y/N. But we want what’s best for you.”

“Well, I promised Tony that I would meet with him before I decided if I want him to be my doctor. Hopefully, he lives up to everything you’ve been saying about him.”

“Trust me… he’s the best there is, for the hospital and for you.”

If she only knew…

Bucky Barnes stared out of his window as his flight was taking off, the view of New York City slowly fading away as he was leaving behind his home of almost twenty-five years. He never would have thought that he would be leaving New York like this, but he knew that he needed the change. New York had been where he had met Steve, where he had gone to college and medical school, where he had established himself a career as one of the finest heart surgeons in the country.

As happy as he had been in New York, there was always something that seemed missing in the life that he’d had there. No matter how hard he worked or how much he had accomplished, none of those accomplishments seemed to live up to the expectation that he had for his career. It felt as though he hadn’t done the one thing that he was always meant to do, although he was unsure if he would ever be able to do just that.

The hour ticked by as he caught up on some emails, one of them from a certain Dr. Y/N Y/L/N from Mass Gen with the subject line as ‘Patient Consult Request’.

Dear Dr. Barnes,

I’m aware that you will be taking over the care of a number of Dr. Stark’s patients, and that you have already received their files to begin reviewing. Due to your expertise in the matter, I have an urgent request for an in-person consult with you for one of my own patients. I have attached the relevant medical information.

Please let me know when you would be free to meet after your arrival in Boston.

Sincerely,

Dr. Y/N Y/L/N

Bucky pulled up the attachment to see that this patient had been born with transposition of the great arteries, and had been operated on by Tony Stark at the age of five. He had performed an arterial switch using what would eventually become the world renown Stark procedure, which involved the switching of the pulmonary artery and the aorta to their normal positions and connecting them to the right ventricle and the left ventricle respectively.

For a moment, he wondered if this patient was indeed the one who Stark had written about in his 1993 article about the Stark procedure. Needless to say, Bucky had been fascinated by the accounts of Stark’s clinical trial during the 90s that paved the way for many cardiothoracic surgeons like him.

If this was the same patient, it meant that he would be working with a patient who was involved in making medical history. But as excited as he was about that, he began to worry once he read further into the file. He came across a series of test results that concluded that this patient was currently experiencing aortic valve regurgitation, followed by a note from Dr. Stark that said:

Patient refuses aortic valve replacement.

It was a simple aortic valve replacement, but the thought that the patient was refusing the surgery made Bucky wonder why that might be. Perhaps being operated on at the age of five and having to follow up for almost three decades now would do that to a person. He wouldn’t know, but he wasn’t going to judge the patient for refusing surgery. Needless to say, it was now his job to convince the patient to have surgery, as it was best to repair the aortic valve. Hopefully, he can do it without geeking out about Tony's article.

And so, he wrote up a quick email to schedule the consult for this patient.

Dear Dr. Y/L/N,

I’ve reviewed the case, and I agree that it is urgent. I will be arriving at the hospital within the next two hours, and would be happy to meet with you as soon as I get in. Please let me know if this works for you. If so, I will come to meet you.

James B. Barnes

It must have been a few seconds before he received a reply.

Dear James,

Thank you so much for getting back to me so quickly. I have no surgeries scheduled for this afternoon, so you can find me in my office. I look forward to meeting you.

Y/N

With that, he closed his laptop and looked down at his watch rather eagerly. Only a half hour left until he would touch down in Boston, and he could not wait to get to meet Y/N.

#aj writes #long way home #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst #doctor!Bucky #doctor!steve #doctor au

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chloelucia13 · 4 years ago

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Part 3: Eye of the Hurricane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: After your breakup with Spencer, you tried everything in your power to forget him, to grow from what happened. However, life (especially yours) doesn’t work that way

Warnings: a lot more angst, language, violence, gore, kidnapping, mentions of death, it’s a doozy

Word Count: 6406

A/N: And here’s part 3! This one is by far the darkest, so I would advise not reading if you’re sensitive to anything mentioned in the warnings. This part involves the kidnapping of Maeve, but if you noticed, I didn’t put death in the warnings because (unlike literally everyone in television and movies) I won’t be using any woman’s death to further a man’s character arc.

Tags: @sojournmichael

Part one, part two

It had been a month.

A month of pain, of heartache so unbelievably miserable that at one point you thought you were having a heart attack.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of him, thinking of every detail about him.

His laugh echoed in your mind, the sound that was once so sweet but now left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Each night, as you tried to lull yourself to sleep, you retraced the steps up to his apartment. Through the double doors, past the second pair of doors that separated the mailboxes from the rest of the apartments, into the entryway, up the flight of fifteen wooden steps, turn to the right, second door on the left.

You wondered if this was how Spencer felt, able to recall any memory at will with great detail.

You wondered if he had even thought of you at all.

Stop.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself to your feet to get another cup of tea, your blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders. The warmth of the water radiating through the ceramic and caressing your fingers was the only thing that kept you aware, in the moment.

You tossed your old tea bag in the trash and retrieved a new one, plopping it in the water before carrying the mug back over to your perch, the place in your apartment that you rarely left these days.

After he left, the apartment felt so... big. So vast and empty and haunting that you confined yourself to a small area and didn’t stray away from it.

You felt like Ed Gein, boarding yourself up into one area of your home and living like a hermit.

But instead of the memories of your parents haunting you, confining you into a small area, it was Spencer.

You couldn’t make yourself clean up his things that were scattered about your apartment. His razor on your bathroom sink, his mug in your kitchen cabinet, his clothes in the top two drawers of the dresser in your bedroom. That wasn’t to mention the dozens of pictures of the two of you hung up on the walls, tucked into the corners of the vanity in your room, placed on your bedside table.

He had made his home inside your apartment to the point that it no longer felt like your apartment.

So there you sat, perched on your couch that sat against your wall, your legs pulled up to your chest as your body was turned to look out the open window behind the couch, a mug cupped in your hands and permanent bags under your eyes.

The smell of rain wafted into your apartment. Petrichor.

That was the only word you had said in the past three days. Your voice was hoarse from disuse, and it felt alien on your tongue.

Every word felt alien on your tongue, as if you were speaking a language you didn’t know. As if you were possessed, spewing out a dead dialect that you spat from your mouth like venom.

For the first few weeks, people bombarded you with calls. Penelope, JJ, Alex, even Derek. Even Emily. It seemed like everyone knew, and everyone wanted to help you in any way you can. However, you just pushed them away, assuring them that you were fine.

It seems that they got the hint, for the most part, as you now only received the stray text from Penelope, asking if you wanted her to come over or if you needed her to go grocery shopping for you.

No matter how much you let yourself wallow and suffer at night and on weekends, you knew that you still had a responsibility and hundreds of patients who relied on you.

Going to work seemed to be the only thing you did nowadays (well, outside of your house, that is). And as strange as it sounds, talking to the patients you knew so well seemed to help pull you out of that rut, at least for the moment.

Helping people was your pride and joy, even though you weren’t able to help yourself.

Before you knew it, you had already drained your second cup of tea. With a sigh, you placed the mug on the coffee table and rose to your feet to draw the window closed.

This was your least favorite time of night. Once the window was closed, the hustle and bustle of Washington D.C. immediately faded away to static silence, making you feel like you were in a soundproof room with all of your thoughts screaming at you.

And screaming was never easy to sleep through.

***

Your cheeks were warm when you woke up.

Tonight was one of the “better” nights, one where you dreamt of kisses being exchanged and holding one another being held in safe, comforting arms. Though it did nothing to help you move on, it was much preferred to the nightmares you were used to. Nightmares that held screaming and venomous words and one final gunshot that rang in your ears when you woke up in a cold sweat.

You pressed “stop” on your alarm before reluctantly rising from your couch and wrapping your blanket around your shoulders, feeling a strange chill flow through the room. With a palm pressed to your closed eye, you wandered into your kitchen and grabbed a bagel, placing it between your teeth as you filled up a glass of water.

A small creak in your bedroom made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You spat the bagel out of your mouth and pulled a knife from your knife block with quivering hands, the familiar feeling of panic settling in your chest. “Hello?” you shouted, knuckles flooding white.

There was silence, and after a moment of waiting, you let out a sigh and placed the knife back down on the counter. God, why am I being so paranoid?

You chugged down the glass of water before clutching onto your blanket with both hands, holding it securely around your shoulders as you glanced around the room.

The window was open.

“God, I’m such an idiot,” you whispered, shuffling your feet over to the window and pushing it shut, listening to the nearly-silent sealing sound that the window breathed out before flipping the latch, locking it in place.

And then your back collided with your hardwood floor, all the air leaving your lungs and a stinging sensation beginning to burn along your scalp.

A gasp fell from your lips as a foot stood on your stomach, pinning you in place as a hand clutched the neck of a full wine bottle, swinging it down and having it connect against your temple before your vision faded to black.

***

With a sputtering cough, you came to, eyes darting around the room with panic. “Good, you’re both awake!” a woman’s voice hummed, stepping in front of you and staring you in the eye. “Now we just need one more.”

“What are you doing?” you hissed, not daring to break eye contact. “What’s going on?”

She scoffed. “Y/N, for having a doctorate in psychology, you’re not that bright.” She stepped out of your viewpoint, revealing another woman who seemed to be in the same predicament as you. Your eyes glanced her over before you turned your head to look at the other woman. “I’ll be back. You two behave now.”

With a smirk, she stepped stepped out the door.

You waited for her footsteps to fade away before scooting your chair over to the other woman, examining her bindings and her face. “We’re gonna get out of here,” you immediately reassured her. “Did she say why you’re here?”

She searched your face, a crease in her brow and water in her eyes. “She-she said I took something from her,” she whispered, biting down on her lower lip.

You nodded, tugging your wrists against your binds for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Maeve.”

Oh my god.

The puzzle pieces started to fit together in your mind as you examined her once more.

Pretty dark brown hair tied up into a ponytail with bangs and strands of hair to frame her face. A pretty cardigan and shirt with jeans. A pretty face. A pretty body.

Pretty.

“What?” she urged, taking note of the look that settled upon your face. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, quickly blinking the tears away. “Oh, it’s nothing. That name, I-it’s just... familiar.” You gulped, forcing a smile on your face. “We’re gonna get out of here, Maeve. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she nodded. “Okay.”

You nodded with her, glancing around the room. “What do you do for work, Maeve?”

She gulped, letting out a shuddering breath. “I’m a geneticist.”

Pretty and smart. Good going, Spence.

“Your name is Y/N?” she asked, pulling you from your spiral.

You nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“What do you do for work, Y/N?” A small smile sat on your lips. “I’m a psychologist.”

She gave you a smile in return. “That sounds like an amazing job.”

“Well, it’s not as cool as being a geneticist, but it’s pretty nice.”

That earned a chuckle from her before her lips pressed together, forming a thin line.

The rest of the time that you two were alone, you were both silent.

***

It had been about an hour before the woman returned, now with a limp body in her arms. You could hear the thump of the body as she dragged it up the flight of stairs and into the room you and Maeve were tucked away in.

It was a man’s body, and by the way Maeve’s breath audibly fled from her lungs, it was one that she knew.

The woman situated the man in another rolling chair, binding his wrists with zip ties in the same way that yours were bound.

you could assume by the blood on his temple that he was also knocked out like you were, and you knew that if either of you didn’t get help for the definite concussions both of you sported, things would be going downhill fairly quickly.

He woke up within moments, a groan falling from his lips. This alerted the woman of his new awareness, as she walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You know,” she sighed, “I couldn’t understand it, Bobby. I really couldn’t.” She stopped in front of him, crouching down and whispering in his ear, “You could have had me. Instead you wanted that.”

She grabbed the arms of Bobby’s chair and spun him around, forcing him to face Maeve, who was only feet from him. Tears were dripping down her face, the look that mirrored that of a kicked puppy on her face.

“Maeve?” he whispered, to which she nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried, casting her gaze to the ground.

“Why are you doing this! Why!”

“Let’s just say, Maeve here has a habit of taking things from people,” the woman hissed before snapping her gaze to you, holding the barrel of a gun against Bobby’s temple. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Your heart dropped to your shoes and bile rose in your esophagus. You shook your head fervently. “No,” you choked out.

“No? Are you sure? Because from what I know, I think she has.”

“Y/N, what is she talking about?” Maeve urged, and you looked over at her with tear-blurred vision.

“Maeve already took Bobby from me, but she also took someone from both of us.”

“Shut up!” you screamed, clenching your teeth.

She just chuckled, walking away from Bobby and stepping over to you, her gun now trained on you. “Oh come on, Y/N. Tell me, how long were you and Spencer together? How much did she take away from you?”

“What?” Maeve gasped out, her eyes growing wide as she examined your profile.

“We were together for almost a year,” you finally breathed out, tilting your head up to the ceiling to try and keep the tears at bay.

“See, Y/N? She took him from you, and then me. It’s all her fault.”

“You never had him, you sick bitch.” You shook your head before directing your gaze on the woman. “None of this is her fault. She didn’t know. But this...” With your limited range of hand movements, you circled your hand around the room. “This is all your fault.”

“No, don’t you dare turn this on me!” she shrieked. “This is all her fault! She took my life from me!” Her demeanor instantly changed, becoming calm and collected, though her voice wavered slightly. “So, I decided, if I can’t have my life, I’m gonna take hers.”

The woman cocked her gun, and your brain worked a mile a moment to try and distract her.

“What are you talking about? She did nothing to you! We did nothing to you!” Bobby shouted out. “Maeve, what is she talking about?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know who she is,” she stuttered out, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“After hunting her for ten months, after stealing her man-” she gestured to Bobby- “After her stealing your man-” she pointed at you- “I had to stop and say, what is so freaking special about her? I couldn’t see it. Until I saw him.”

“Him who?” Bobby huffed.

“The night you followed her, I followed you. And I saw him.” You worked quickly to try and connect the puzzle that was lying in front of you, your jaw dropping when you finally realized.

“I want what they have,” she concluded. “What Y/N and him had. I want him.”

“That’s why you’re doing this?” Bobby scoffed, challenging her. “Because of this stupid FBI agent?”

“That stupid FBI agent is the reason you’re still alive!”

As she directed her attention back to Bobby, Maeve turned to face you. “I’m so sorry,” she mouthed, guilt-ridden. You just shook your head and gave her a pained smile.

“You’re gonna get them to tell me about him,” the woman continued, jamming her gun into Bobby’s neck.

“I don’t want to hear what she has to say,” he shouted back as his resolve began to crumble, his lower lip quivering.

“I know. But it wasn’t a request.”

He just clenched his jaw, unwilling to speak. She let out a huff before stomping over to a table behind you, shuffling through a few papers before walking back over to Maeve, crouching between you and her with a stack of papers in her hand.

“So, let’s talk about this, hmm?” She grinned at Maeve. “Because this I didn’t expect.” She glanced between you and Bobby. “Oh, I’m sorry. let me catch you two up. I found these letters in Maeve’s loft. And I guess she didn’t get around to sending this one, and... It’s really good.” She cleared her throat before speaking. “’I bought the blindfold today. I can’t wait to use it.’ Blindfold.”

At this point, your teeth were so tightly clenched together that you were sure your teeth were going to shatter.

“You know, I thought I knew your fiancee. But I guess she’s kinkier than we thought.” “It’s not what you think,” Maeve’s voice hummed, and you noticed how her eyes flashed over to you for a moment.

“’It’s not what you think’ is girl code for ‘it’s exactly what you think.’”

“No, it’s not what you think.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“I never even saw him.”

“Why risk your life to meet him?” “I’ve been alone for so long, I just wanted to be with somebody. But if I knew about...”

“You could’ve been with Bobby.”

“It was different with him.”

“Different how?”

“He was just...”

“he was just what Maeve?” Bobby pushed, his fuse growing shorter by the second.

“When we would talk, I would... It was effortless,” Maeve breathed out, and you couldn't help but notice the glimmer in her eye when she thought of Spencer.

“That is so interesting,” the woman deadpanned, pushing herself to her feet and rushing over to Bobby, waving her gun around erratically. “You see, when men cheat, it’s below the belt. But when women cheat, it’s above the neck.”

“No, we were broken up. I never cheated on you.”

“But someone cheated on someone.” The woman stared between you and Maeve as she spoke.

“I told you it wasn’t her fault!” you hissed, thrashing your arms in your binds.

“You never really loved me, did you?” Bobby spoke up. “Not like you loved him, anyways.”

The woman feigned an empathetic look, sinking to her knees in front of Bobby. “Now you know how I felt, to be ignored, cast aside. It’s not fun, is it?”

As she spoke, bile rose in your throat. You hated how much you understood exactly what she was saying. You were like her, in a loveless relationship with a man who was too focused on another woman.

No, don’t think like that.

“Let us go, goddammit!” Bobby shouted, startling you out of your thoughts. “What else do you want?”

“Oh, so, so much more,” she hummed sweetly, walking back over to Maeve and standing behind her. “You had him eating out of the palm of your hand every Sunday, and he never even saw your face. I have to admit, that takes skill. That takes finesse.” She turned to look at you. “how does it feel, Y/N? Knowing Spencer was in love with a woman he had never met, ever even seen, when he still had you?”

“Shut up,” you spat through your teeth.

She just chuckled, pushing Maeve’s chair forward so her and Bobby were facing each other, so close that her knees were touching his. “How’d you do it, Maeve? I think your audience would like to know.”

Maeve stayed silent, her lips pressed together tightly.

“Hello!” the woman shouted. “Doctor, are you in there? Seriously? Ok, fine.” With a jerk of her hand, she fired a round into the ground, the gun settled between Maeve and Bobby. You all flinched from the noise, and adrenaline coursed through your veins. You tugged harder at your binds.

“Just tell her,” Bobby demanded.

“There was a moment when you had him. When you knew you had him. What was it?”

“Euclidean geometry,” Maeve breathed out finally, her voice trembling, but you couldn’t tell if it was from terror or from sadness. “There’s this thing called the Penrose triangle. He told me a story about how he tried to build one when he was 8.”

“This better get sexy quick. I’m getting bored,” the woman hummed, her hip jutted out.

“You can’t build it. It’s an impossible physical structure. It only exists in conceptual geometry. But I said every Penrose triangle has its thorns. he laughed. It was a stupid pun, but he laughed.”

“That’s it.” She huffed, grabbing the arms of Maeve’s chair and turning Maeve so her back was facing Bobby. “I finally sees what he sees. He sees you as an equal. That’s it, isn’t it?” The woman turned to face you. “How do you feel about that.”

You gulped, thinking for a moment. You decided that if you played her game, you’d gain more time, so with a sigh, you spoke the words that had plagued your mind when Maeve spoke: “I don’t think I can remember the last time I heard him laugh.”

The woman’s lips pursed, clearly satisfied, and she rose to her feet. “Well, I know his secret now. As long as he can see me as his equal, he can love me. Like he loved you two.”

“Great, you figured it out,” Bobby deadpanned. “Now, please, will you let us go?”

“No.” She walked over to him, glaring down at him. “I have to show her that I can take everything she has. Then she’s going to remember me. And I can get what she took from me. You, however, are superfluous.” She grabbed Bobby’s chair and wheeled him back, pushing the back of his chair against the back of Maeve’s. “Sorry, Bobby. You’ve always been runner up in this beauty pageant.”

“Wait, Wait, wait, wait,” Bobby begged, and you watched in horror as the woman solidly pressed the barrel of the gun against Bobby’s temple. “Please, Maeve...”

“Don’t hurt him,” Maeve urged. “Please! Please don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt him.”

But it was to no avail.

You squeezed your eyes shut as a gunshot rang through the empty warehouse, biting your tongue so hard to keep from screaming that the bitter taste of iron flooded your mouth.

You were all silent as the woman pulled the chair that held Bobby’s lifeless body, dragging it into a room that branched off from the main room that you were being held in.

“You still don’t know who I am, do you?” the woman sighed, leaning against a desk.

“No,” Maeve stated simply, though her voice revealed that she was still shaken. “I’ve tried and tried to remember and I can’t. But whatever I did to you, I’m sorry. Forgive me. Tell me what it is you want me to say to you and I’ll say it.”

“Why am I here?” you spoke up, your breath nearly hitching when you felt the zipties give a little.

“Because I needed Maeve to see everyone she ruined,” the woman said, not even sparing a glance at you. “And because Spencer still loves you, and if Maeve wouldn’t lead him here, you definitely would.”

“What makes you think he still loves me? I don’t know if you remember, but he left me. He doesn’t want me.”

“Oh honey, don’t be so naive.”

“I just want this to be over,” Maeve breathed out, which clearly caught the woman’s attention.

“I can do that.” Slowly, the woman grabbed a pair of wire cutters and rushed over to Maeve, clipping the zipties around Maeve’s wrists. “You just have to do something for me first.”

Maeve could barely nod before the woman yanked Maeve out of her chair, pushing her out of the room and out of your sight.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, and you scooted over to the table where the woman laid all of her gear. Your eyes searched through the items as you tried your hardest to yank just one hand free from its binds.

Finally, after a minute or so of pulling, you pulled so hard that your hand slipped out. You let out a small cry of pain, tears welling in your eyes as your hand throbbed. It was definitely dislocated, but you pushed on, grabbing onto the wire cutters with all the strength you could muster and cutting your other hand free.

The echoing of footsteps coming from the stairwell startled you slightly, rushing to put the wire cutters back into place before moving back to your original spot, acting as if your hands were still bound.

The woman yanked Maeve into the room, tossing her into her chair and strapping her wrists down with one hand while the other held her phone. You shot Maeve a quizzical look, wondering what happened to her while she was gone. She just shook her head, biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying out.

Meanwhile, the woman typed on her phone before holding it next to Maeve’s mouth.

“Hello?”

You thought you were about to vomit.

What did Spencer get himself into?

“Hey, it’s me,” Maeve spoke, her face ridden with guilt as she risked a glance at you.

“Are you okay?”

“She killed Bobby.” “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. We’ve both got concussions and some bruising, but we’re okay.”

“We?”

He didn’t even know you were there. He didn’t care.

You couldn’t help but notice the twisted smile on the woman’s face at Spencer’s words. Meanwhile, Maeve looked at if she was about to burst at any moment, so filled with guilt and misery that she could barely handle it.

“Y/N’s here with me,” Maeve sobbed out.

He was silent, but you could practically hear all of the thoughts running through his mind. “Can... Can I talk to her?” he spoke finally.

The woman smirked, stepping away from Maeve and going over to you. You silently prayed that she wouldn’t notice your freed wrists, holding your breath as she finally put the receiver near your mouth.

“Hi Spencer,” you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I... I’m so sorry.”

You sniffled, but stayed silent, not knowing what else to say.

“You’re going to be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

He sighed. “Can I talk to Diane?”

You looked back at the woman, at Diane. “No. She’s listening.”

“Good. But I want to meet her. I need to see her face to face.”

Diane hurried back over to Maeve, jamming the gun into the back of her neck to urge her to talk. “She has a message she wants me to give to you,” Maeve rushed out.

“What is it?” Spence spoke.

“The message is, she left you a present. And if you want to find it, it’s easy as pie.”

“What does that mean? I don’t understand what that means.”

“Neither do I.”

“Spencer, it’s a trap,” you shouted out. “If you come here, she’s gonna kill you or us-” Your words fell short as Diane ran over to you and connected her fist with your jaw. You gripped onto the armrests of the chair and bit back a hiss.

She hung up the phone.

***

Police sirens wailed through the empty night, a small sob bubbling up in your throat as the red and blue lights shone through the large window.

Diane was giddy with excitement, hurrying over to the intercom and holding the button down. “Take your gun and vest off,” she instructed, glancing back at you and Maeve. “Now come in alone.” She pressed another button before going over to your two, arranging your chairs so you were sat side-by-side, facing a singular chair that laid about ten feet from you both.

The creak of the old door echoed into the room and you extended your pinky out until it brushed over Maeve’s. She gripped onto your pinky with hers as you both exchanged a look, tears swimming in both of your eyes.

You counted his footsteps, heart rate increasing as they grew nearer and nearer. Diane stepped out of the room, just out of your sight, and you wound your jaw tightly shut.

“Put it on,” she demanded.

A moment later, two pairs of footsteps stepped into the room, and your eyes lingered on Spencer’s form as he appeared from behind a shelf, his eyes covered with a strip of fabric. Diane led him into the room with a gun to his back.

“Can I take off the blindfold?” Spencer asked.

“No,” she grumbled, shoving him down into the chair that faced you and Maeve.

He was silent for a moment, his lips parted. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Maeve whispered, tightening her grip on your pinky.

You were silent, your lips pursed.

“I was hoping you’d figure out my riddle,” Diane hummed, one hand deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

The shirt you bought him for your six month anniversary.

“I mean, I knew you would,” she continued. “The fun was just how fast you’d do it.” Her hand slid down his chest, gliding underneath his shirt. “All this, and brains too.”

“It took me a long time,” Spencer hummed, humoring her. “To be honest, I was distracted by your thesis.” She pulled away, stepping back to look at him. “You read my thesis?” She was beaming.

“I did. You know, I think your writing can put you on the same plane as Jonas Salk. I’ve already sent it in to the NIH.”

She stomped away. “Flattery is not gonna get you out of this. I know what’s waiting for me outside.”

“I’ve arranged for your freedom.”

The federal government doesn’t make deals with people like me.”

“Not true. Nazi scientists were recruited for the Manhattan Project. Mafia bosses are regularly put into Witness Protection. If what you have is valuable enough, the federal government will work with you. And what you have is very valuable.”

She rose the gun to his throat. “And what do I have, doctor?”

“You have a brain that doesn’t play by normal societal rules. And I know that all your life, the people you care about the most keep leaving. There’s a part of you that thinks it’s because of that brain. Well, I’m here because I’m not going to leave you. I’m here because... I just hope that I get the chance.” “Chance at what?”

“To be with you.”

As he spoke, you knew he wasn’t telling the truth to Diane. But you did know, however, that he was speaking to someone in the room.

And that someone wasn’t you.

“Me for her, that was the deal, right?” Spencer spoke up. “Me for them.”

“You’re choosing me over them?” Diane questioned.

“Diane, how could it be anyone else?”

“Prove it.”

“Alright. How?”

“Say it again.” She stepped behind him. “This time say it to their faces.” She yanked the blindfold off, revealing both of you to him.

His eyes flickered between you two, letting out a breath. You dropped your gaze to the floor, too scared to look him in the eye. Slowly, your grip fell from Maeve’s.

“I don’t love you,” his voice rang through your ears, sounding too familiar to you. Sounding so similar to the nightmares that plagued your mind nearly every night. “Sorry.”

“I understand,” Maeve choked out, though her voice didn't waver.

Diane let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t need her anymore,” she breathed out, rushing over to Maeve, pointing the gun to her head.

“Kill her and she won’t have to live with the fact that you’re smarter,” he shouted, distracting Diane. “Let her live with her irrelevancy.”

Diane squatted down next to Maeve, clipping one of her zipties. She rose back up a moment later, aiming the gun back at Maeve’s head. “I just want her to see one more thing. And Y/N, you should watch too.”

You gritted your teeth but looked up, following her movements with your eyes as she knelt down next to Spencer and pressed her lips to his. He seemed disgusted, but didn’t pull away, taking deep breaths to stay on task.

She pulled away from him a few moment later, searching his eyes. “Liar,” she hissed. She shot up to her feet, aiming the gun at his chest. “Liar!”

He grabbed her hands and aimed the gun above his head as she fired, the shot ringing through the building. As they wrestled for the gun, you turned and worked to help Maeve out of the other zip tie.

Stomping boots neared the second floor where you were held, and another gunshot rung out. Spencer stumbled to the ground, and you yanked Maeve’s zip tie with all the strength you had left in your body.

“Stay back! Stay back! Stay back!” Spencer shouted, and you looked up to see Hotch aiming his gun directly at Diane.

Diane grabbed Maeve from her chair and held Maeve against her chest, pressing the gun against Maeve’s temple.

“Diane, there’s still a way out of this!” Spencer begged.

“You never wanted me,” Diane cried. “Never!”

She was growing angry rapidly, and you knew this was your last chance to keep Maeve safe.

“Kill me instead.”

Everyone grew silent at your words, their gazes directed at you. “What?” Diane whispered.

“Kill me instead,” you urged. “Let Maeve live with her pain. Killing Maeve might hurt Spencer, but it’ll wreck him if you kill me.”

She kept her eyes on you as you slowly rose from your chair, making your way over to her and Maeve. “Don’t-”

“Spencer won’t be able to live with the fact that he ruined my life. He hurt me while I was living, and I’ll take that pain to my deathbed. He couldn’t live with himself.”

You watched her contemplate her options for a moment before shoving Maeve forward and replacing her with you, shoving the barrel of the gun sharply against your neck. Spencer grabbed Maeve and directed her to run before he turned his gaze back to you.

“Y/N-” he started, only for you to shake your head.

“I hate you, Spencer,” you choked out, letting the tears finally stream down your face. “You broke me.”

You flinched slightly as she cocked her gun, letting all of your inhibitions flow out with a deep breath before you grabbed onto the gun and yanked it from her grip.

She shouldered you to the ground, but you kept your grip tight on the gun as she tried to wrestle it out of your hands.

But with one jab to the nose, your grip loosened enough for her to fire a bullet straight into your lower abdomen.

A moment later, another shot rang out, and her body slid off of you.

Everything moved in a slow haze as you tried to focus on anything but the blood gushing out of your stomach. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, eyes slowly beginning to fall shut.

“Hey, hey, stay awake for me.” With a wince, you forced your eyes open to stare straight into a pair of hazel ones. “Is Maeve okay?” you coughed out, searching his face.

“Why did you do that? I had her,” Spencer questioned, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m not the one you need, Spence. Not the one you want.”

His lower lip trembled, eyes dripping with tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry.”

A gasp stumbled past your lips when you felt an immense pressure on your wound, tears spilling over your face when you squeezed your eyes shut. “Is she okay?”

“What?”

“Is Maeve okay?” Another surge of pain coursed through your body and you let out a cry.

“Hey, it’s okay. The medics are supposed to be here any moment now. Just hold on for me.”

“Spencer, is she okay?”

You heard him breathe out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah, she’s okay. You saved her.”

***

A tickling in your nose made your eyes flutter open, wincing slightly from the bright lights. One hand reached up to soothe the itch, only for your hand to be pulled away.

“Hey, don’t mess with that,” a voice cooed. You turned your head towards the sound, seeing Spencer search your face, worry marring his features.

“How long was I out?” you breathed, voice rough with disuse.

“About 12 hours.” He reluctantly let go of your hand, instead resting his hands on the side of your bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got shot.” You let out a chuckle, but Spencer didn’t find very funny. “I’m okay, Spencer. Really.”

“If the bullet was 3 millimeters to the right it would’ve hit your spine. You could’ve been paralyzed from the waist down. Do you understand how reckless you were?”

“Well, everyone’s safe and Diane’s dead. That sounds like a pretty good outcome to me.”

“You could’ve died!” “Maybe I wanted to fucking die!” You stared him in the eye for a moment before leaning back into the bed, closing your eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

“It seems you don’t really know me at all. Too busy spending ten out of the eleven months we were together talking to another woman.” You sniffled, adjusting the blanket on your bed. “Shouldn’t you be with her anyways? She probably needs someone with her more than I do.”

He was silent, and you watched his hands retreat off of your bed. “Why did you risk your life for her?”

“Because she didn’t deserve to die.”

“But that’s not the only reason.”

“Because...” You pursed your lips, tilted your head up to look up at the ceiling. The words ebbed and flowed in your mind, but none of them were right. “Because I still want you to be happy. Because I’m a fucking masochist, I guess. I hurt myself to help the ones I love, even if they don’t love me back.”

For what seemed like the first time in his life, he had no clue what to say.

Finally, with a sigh, he buried his head in his hands.

“Maeve is gone,” he choked out.

You shifted your gaze back to him. “What?”

“She left. She just... disappeared. She left me a note telling me not to find her.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, chewing on your lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.” He pulled his head from his hands, looking into your damp eyes with his red-rimmed ones. “I ruined everything for us. For you. I hurt you more than I could even imagine. I’m so sorry.” He sniffled, rubbing at his cheeks. “I still love you. I-I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do. I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”

You nodded. “I love you too. I just... I don’t know if I can.”

He let his eyes close. “I ruined everything for us, didn’t I?”

You extended your hand, palm facing up. Hesitantly, Spencer placed his hand in yours, entwining his fingers with yours. “I don’t know yet. Maybe, maybe not.”

He dropped his head, pulling your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His eyes fluttered closed once more, his lips lingering on your skin as he huffed out a breath. “I’m so sorry.”

You lifted your hand from his to run your fingers through his hair. “Go home, Spence. Get some sleep. I’ll have JJ come and get me in the morning.”

His fingers tangled into the blanket on your bed for a moment before he nodded, releasing his grip and rising to his feet. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah. I... I need some time to process everything.”

You watched as he mentally argued with himself before he slouched, defeated. He made his way to the door of your room, stopping in the doorway and turning to you. “Just know I’m a phone call away if you need me.”

You nodded. “I know, thank you. Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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robert-de-niro-only-fans · 4 years ago

Text

Just Friends

The Deer Hunter!Robert De Niro x Reader

I’m so sorry this took so long. Hope you like pining!

TW: age gap, mention of illness, idk high word count?

Word Count: 8.8k

"Why don't you let (Y/N) come with me? It would be a great opportunity for her to see what's it's like to film in some open locations instead of the sets here in New York. Plus she'll get to meet a great cast of actors, you know how hard we had to push to get John Cazale in the movie. She could learn so much from him." "I don't know, Robert. All the arrangements have been made for the crew's travel and lodging; I wouldn't want to make production any more difficult just so my daughter can watch you guys make a movie." "Ah, it shouldn't be a big deal. It's not too hard to buy an extra plane ticket, and she can just crash with me. Plus we could probably use the extra hands on set at some point." You can't help but feel completely giddy as you overhear Robert urging your father to let you go with him as he films his next movie. You're the daughter of a New York-based movie producer, who had gotten somewhat popular and had enough connections to know some really great actors and actresses. Your dad met Robert De Niro when he was acting in Brian De Palma's early films, and they had been planning on working together for a long time. However, Robert and your dad both stayed busy, and now Robert is a pretty big star since Taxi Driver released just last year. You got to know Robert when you were just a teenager. He would come over to your home for small get-togethers your dad liked to throw. You always liked being around him, so it was lucky for you that your dad and him became good friends. Robert is good about visiting when he has the chance to, but his visits have been less frequent lately as his career is really taking off. And that's what he was doing here today: a quick visit with you and your dad before he has to run off and make another film. The conversation turned, however, when you started discussing how you were becoming interested in working on films, particularly acting. Although most actors started younger than you, and being in your early twenties is already considered old for an actress, you decided it wasn't too late to start. Robert had a soft spot for learning and teaching acting, although his teaching came as little tidbits of advice. That's why you are shocked to hear Robert ask about you going with him for filming, while you're in the kitchen fixing everyone drinks. You walk in, carrying three glasses on a small tray and set them down on the table, then handing each of the men a glass. They both thank you as you take your seat across from them. "Sooo..." you raise your eyebrows and give your dad a hopeful smile. "Yes, (Y/N)?" "Can I go with Robert? I overheard what you two were saying." Your dad sits back and exhales a little loudly. He was trying to be stern but you could tell he was hiding a smile. He could never be an actor; he couldn't hide his real feelings very well. He turns to Robert asking, "Are you sure it's okay if she goes with you?" "Of course. I'll take good care of her," he says sweetly. You always thought he was very sweet. "Okay, sweetheart, you can go, not that I could stop you anyway, but I appreciate that you ask," your father says as a smile spreads across his face. "Dad!! Thank you so much!" He was right; you were an adult, but you had always lived with him, so you felt you needed to ask before going across the country. You jump up and give your dad a big hug. "You better start packing," Robert says with a chuckle, "we leave for Ohio tomorrow." "What kind of clothes should I bring?" you ask Robert. "What you would normally wear. Bring a few nice outfits for dinners. And we'll stop back in New York before going to Washington, because it'll be pretty cold and we'll all need warmer clothes." The smile on his face tells you he's excited about you going with him. You ask sit and talk a little longer, with Robert telling you and your dad about the general schedule about how you'll spend a several weeks in Ohio where most of the film takes place, a few days here and there in Pennsylvania and West Virginia, take a break for a few weeks, then go to Washington State for all of the hunting scenes. After that, a smaller portion of the cast and crew will go to Thailand to film the war scenes. This is also when you find out that the beard he is sporting is for the movie and not just some new fashion choice. You quite like the beard as well as his haircut, it suits him unexpectedly well. As it starts getting late, you make the move to go up to your room to pack. So you say goodnight to Robert and your dad, giving them both big hugs as a thank you for letting you go for filming, and you head upstairs to squeeze all of your clothes and toiletries into a suitcase. Downstairs, Robert stays to talk with your dad a little while longer before heading home. "Now, Robert, you said (Y/N) would be staying with you, right?" "Yes. Is that okay?" "Well..." your dad starts but he certainly doesn't want to offend Robert, "you won't, umm, do anything... with her, will you?" "Hmm? Oh. Oh! Um, no, I won't do anything like that with her. I hadn't even thought about it. I just uuhh- I just thought it would be better if she stayed with me instead sticking her in a random hotel room away from the rest of us... Most of the hotel rooms have two beds anyways." Robert tries desperately to get rid of the blush that came to his cheeks as he stumbles through what he's saying. He had never thought of you that way before, and it caught him off guard and kind of gave him butterflies in his stomach. "Yeah, you're probably right about her staying with you. She's probably safer with you than taking her chances somewhere else," your dad says with look of relief. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry I brought up the idea so last minute, but she'll be okay with me." "No, it's okay. It's a good opportunity for her. I think you guys will have a great time! Now, how do you think Michael is gonna film this thing?" Your dad and Robert discuss the production and direction of the movie for a short while before Robert really has to leave to go home and sleep. When you hear that he's about to leave, you quickly make your way down the stairs to tell him goodnight and thank him again for taking you with him. He pulls you into a gentle hug, placing one of his hands on the back of your head. "You're very welcome, (Y/N). Now, I'll be here at 7 in the morning to pick you up; I wanna take you to breakfast before we head to the airport. That'll also give us some time for someone to get on the phone and get you a plane ticket!" You had no doubt Robert would be able to get you on the plane. And with that, he left, and you went upstairs to pack the last few things you would need before trying to get some sleep, although that didn't come so easy due to the excitement you're feeling. • • • The next day goes just the way Robert said it would: he picks you up right at 7, loads your bags in the car, and takes you to breakfast at his favorite place. It's an upscale place but in a subdued way. You enjoy each other's company over biscuits, eggs, pancakes, coffee, bacon, whatever your heart desires as Robert put it. On the way to the airport, he admits that he got your plane ticket sorted out before he arrived for breakfast, and there was a seat in first class with the rest of the cast. Right next to him. But it's really no issue. He swears he didn't have to buy someone out of their seat. After checking your bags and boarding the plane, Robert introduces everyone to you: Christopher Walken, Meryl Streep, her husband John Cazale, George Dzundza, and John Savage, who everyone opted to call Savage. Meryl and John immediately took a liking to you, which you were honored. The flight was pretty packed, so the cast was all split up across first class, so everyone agreed that you should have dinner tonight to celebrate the beginning of filming. During takeoff you feel Robert put his hand on top of yours, and you quickly turn your head to face him. "You comfortable?" He asks softly. "Oh... Yeah, are you?" "Yep." You look down at his hand on yours. He strokes his thumb over your hand for a moment before pulling it away and looking out the window. You'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel something. • • • The rest of your flight is uneventful, aside from a few people asking for autographs from the cast as you're leaving the airport. Outside, you are all met with a giant black van, and the director of the movie, Michael Cimino hops out to greet everyone and help put bags in the undercarriage. Everyone climbs inside the van, you sticking close to Robert, simply because you don't know anyone else yet. It's very comfortable and spacious inside, certainly the nicest van you'd ever seen. You and Robert end up all the way in the back, with everyone else doubling up on the seats in front of you. You've got a little bit of a drive to your hotel. Only a few minutes into your trip, everyone is chatting away, and you're finally getting to meet everyone properly, although you're getting to know Meryl and John the best because they're on the seat right in front of you. You instantly notice that John has a fantastic sense of humor; it's no wonder Meryl is so in love with him. Robert has his arm around your shoulders, but you can't tell if it's because he just wants to stretch out across the seat or if it's something else. Either way, he's only there like that for a few moments before he goes to the front of the van to talk to the director. "Guess I got stranded back here," you say with a chuckle to Meryl and John. "Oh, yeah, he's been so involved with Michael in getting this film made," Meryl throws over her shoulder to you. She turns on her seat to face you a little better, "Can I ask you a rather personal question?" "Oh, um, sure." You were certainly nervous to hear what she had to say. "Are you and Robert dating one another?" A breath of relief leaves you in the form of a small laugh, "Oh God, no! He's a friend of my dad's, so we've known each other a long time. He wanted to bring me along so I could learn more about filmmaking." "Oh, that's sweet of him. I apologize for assuming. I guess it's just, uh--oh nevermind," she gives a small smile and looks down at her lap. "No, it's okay! What is it?" "You two are just close, which I suppose that makes sense if you've been friends for so long! I just misinterpreted your relationship." A big smile stretches across her face as John chimes in. "Well if she didn't ask, I was going to, so it's probably good we cleared the air now, right?" "Right!" you respond. "Besides, I'm sure the other guys will all badger him about you, whether it's about him being a cradle robber or them trying to get with you." The three of you laugh, knowing that what John said is probably going to be true. "What are y'all laughing about back there?" Savage pipes up, breaking his attention away from the conversation going on between him, Chris, and George. "My receding hairline." John deadpans to the group in front of them. There's a long pause before everyone busts out in laughter, which then catches the attention of Michael and Robert at the front of the van. They both turn around to see what's going on, and Robert gives you a smile, scrunching his nose cutely. They decide not to get involved, and go back to their conversation. The rest of you talk in a big group the rest of the way to the hotel. • • • At the hotel, production rented out a whole floor for all of the cast and crew to stay on, with the cast kind of grouped near each other on one end. As for this first hotel you'll be at, and it is the main hotel you'll stay at while in Ohio, there are two beds in each room. A lot of the film crew picked partners and doubled up, but of course the director, executive producers, and main cast get their own rooms, with the exception of Meryl and John, and now Robert because he offered to have you with him. When you get in the hotel room, you drop your bags at the door and run to one of the beds, flopping on it and sinking into the comfort. Robert chuckles at you as you grab a pillow to cuddle up with. He drops your bags at the foot of the bed before asking, "I'm assuming you want this bed?" You look up at him lazily, "I don't really care. Do you have a preference?" "Not really; I'll take the other bed," he laughs at you again as he drops his bags near the other bed. "What are you laughing at?" You squint your eyes, questioning him playfully, still hugging your pillow. "You. And your pillow." "Mmmm... I think you're just jealous." "Jealous?! My bed has pillows too. See?" He picks up a pillow and hugs it just like you. "No no no. You're jealous of the pillow. You wish I was squeezing you like this!" "Oh you think so, huh?" He throws his pillow at you. You block it with your arms and it hits the ground. "I'm keeping that," you say sassily. "Fine with me," he says, too calmly. That's quickly broken when he charges towards you, ripping the pillow out of your arms as you burst into laughter. He picks you up around your waist, spins you around a few times and slams you both down on his bed, his arms still firmly around you. "Now I don't have to be jealous," he jokes. You wrap your arms around his head and neck, hugging him into your chest, just like you had done with the pillow. "No, you don't have to be jealous anymore." He gives you one final squeeze and then stands up. "We have a little while before we have to get ready for dinner. Any idea what you wanna do?" You groan a little, "Sleep." You smile up at him. "Well then you better get in your bed instead of hogging mine." "Excuse me! You put me here, so you'll have to move me back!" "Needy," he grumbles jokingly, picking you up and tossing you down on your bed. "You ever heard of letting someone down easy, Robert? Cuz you keep throwing me." He chuckles lowly, moving towards his luggage, "Go to sleep." You grab the extra pillow from the floor and get comfy. One pillow under your head, cuddled up to a second one, a third under one of your legs, and the duvet pulled up to your head. Pure bliss. "You look like a little princess with all those pillows," Robert's voice echoes across the hotel room. "Good. Then let me get me beauty sleep." While he's unpacking some of his clothes and stuff, he finds himself thinking about how you really don't need sleep to look any more beautiful than you already are. • • • That night at dinner, it didn't take long for John's predictions to come true. Just a few minutes after ordering food, Chris caught everyone's attention when he asked, "Bobby, you and this gorgeous young lady... What's going on with you two?" "Whaddaya mean, what's going on with us?" Robert repeats with a laugh. "Well, she's your girlfriend isn't she? I gotta say I'm a little jealous Bobby gets to bring his girlfriend, but I don't get to bring my lovely wife." "Chris, we're not dating. She's just a friend; I've known her dad for a long time." Savage butts in, practically yelling, "Of course she wouldn't date him! He's old enough to be her dad! Unless you're into that kinda stuff, baby." You turn to John and you both start laughing about how Savage managed, not only to joke about Robert being significantly older than you, but also use it to hit on you. "This again? What's so funny?!" John yells. "You had to be there," you cut back to Savage, trying not to smile, but failing. Robert cuts in, "Ya know, I just wanna say: I'm not old enough to be her dad." It kind of surprised you that he would even bother defending himself; it was clearly just a joke, but everyone laughed nonetheless. "You're only, like, 15 years older than her right?" George jokes. A little bit of a blush creeps up Robert's neck, and he bites his lip, "...yeah." This only makes everyone laugh more. Under the table, you place your hand on top of Robert's and you both give each other a small look while laughing. It's a short moment, broken by Michael walking up to the table. Everyone knew he would be late, but you still invited him anyway. Michael slides in next to Robert and asks, "What's so funny?" "Eh, you don't wanna know," Robert shoots back. You and John are trying very hard not to have another laughing fit. Luckily things are fairly calm while everyone is eating, but it doesn't last long after everyone is done. You catch John whispering in Meryl's ear before he turns to the table and says, "Alright, let Meryl and I slide out, my lady wants to dance." Pretty much everyone stands up to let them out of the booth, and Chris, noticing that Robert is once again deep in conversation with Michael, invites you to dance to "keep those other dogs off of you." George and Savage sneak off to find some nice Ohio locals to dance with. Robert and Michael slide back into the booth, chatting like they do. Meryl and John are being beyond cute dancing with one another and nuzzling noses. Chris is a real gentleman while dancing with you. He holds you close, and you maintain some casual conversation getting to know each other better. George finds sweet girl to try and romance, but Savage is having some trouble, so he simply steals you away from Chris, asking if he could dance with you instead. Chris thanks you for your time and returns to the table joining in the talk with Michael and Robert. Dancing with Savage is a little bit intense, as he lays it on thick hitting on you. At one point, he leans his head down and starts placing kisses on your cheek and even a few on your neck. This is when you catch Robert basically staring a hole in you. He stands up and makes his way over to you and Savage. Robert places a hand on Savage's shoulder, lowly speaking, "You mind if I borrow your dance partner?" "Mm... But we were having fun," Savage whines sarcastically, but gives in and leaves you with Robert. "What, you didn't like him kissing on me? I knew you were the jealous type," you snark at him. "Nooo. I told your dad I would take care of you, and a guy like him is no good for a girl your age." He wraps an arm around you, figuring that he should probably dance with you. "My knight in shining armor!" Another joke. "Oh shut up," he chuckles. • • • The next day, you all wake up bright and early to head to the tailors on location so that everyone can get their makeup done and costumes on. You had to admit Robert looked pretty funny in his flannel, puffy vest, and trucker cap. It was nothing like what he would normally wear. The first few scenes that are gonna be filmed during this first week are the first few scenes of the film, where all of the characters are seen at the steel mill and they prepare for the wedding and being drafted. The dynamic of the cast actually worked pretty well for these scenes. Everyone got along quite well, so it wasn't hard for them to act like they had been friends their whole lives. You noticed that filming goes a bit slower when it's shot on location like this, and it was made even slower by Michael Cimino. Michael was very particular about the way he wanted things, and there were lots of noises to work around as they filmed at an actual steel mill. You also spent more time in the makeup trailor than you had expected to; you found it fascinating how they made the men look like they weren't wearing any makeup at all. You and Meryl also spent a good amount of time together when she wasn't in a scene. She said that it was nice having another girl around on a predominantly male set. Of course, you weren't the only girl, but you were one of few. There isn't really a scene that Robert isn't in, so unfortunately, you don't see him much unless everyone is taking a break, or if you hang out with him while he's in makeup. But you make the most of it by getting to know everyone else. • • •

On nights after filming, the cast hangs out really often, normally in someone's hotel room, usually Meryl and John's. Sometimes you would go to a bar or a restaurant, as drinking and dancing became some of the groups' favorite activities. Hanging out in Meryl and John's hotel room usually includes wine, snacks, playing cards, and Robert's arm casually around your waist whenever you get near him. Savage still shoots his shot with you every once in a while, but if he isn't shut down by you, he will be shut down by Robert. He's just watching out for you like he promised your dad; really, it's flattering how protective he can be. • • • The second week of filming is dedicated to filming the wedding scenes. Everyone looks great in their tuxedos and dresses, and the church you'll be filming in is a beautiful Russian Orthodox Church here in Cleveland. "How do I look?" Robert asks you while he's getting his hair gelled and combed into place. "Very handsome. I really like you in that tuxedo." "Maybe he can borrow it when you two finally get married," Michael says coming into the makeup trailor. You and Robert both look at him a little shocked; Michael's never made jokes about you two before. "Oh, c'mon, I'm not allowed to make jokes too?" You both laugh a little awkwardly trying to cut any tension in the room. "I'm gonna go outside and help with all the extras," you say, swiftly leaving the makeup trailor. Outside, there are like a hundred people who showed up to be extras in the wedding scene, and you're sure Michael will probably use most of them. The people are all dressed up in their finest wedding attire, some of them getting a little makeup done or getting some items from costume to make the scene fit Michael's vision. They were told to bring empty presents as well, so that the table full of wedding presents would look realistic; however, many of them actually brought real presents for the cast and crew to keep. Filming the wedding scene was really chaotic to say the least. It felt like a party that went on for way too long, and most everyone was pretty exhausted by the end of filming with the extras that day. But you had to say, Meryl and Robert really stole the show. Their on-screen chemistry was astounding; you would've thought they were really in love or something! You loved watching the way Robert's character pined for Meryl's; his eyes always said so much. And of course, filming wouldn't have felt complete without John adding in his funny little quirks in various scenes, such as tapping his foot while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle, and carrying Robert across the room for the group photo. Althought most of the filming with the extras had to be done in one day, the other scenes filmed that week included a couple of the bar scenes of the guys playing pool and drinking, and the scene where Robert streaks through town, which certainly had you blushing. Thank God you were filming at night. • • • Your last two weeks of filming in Ohio are spent filming anything that wasn't a hunting scene or a war scene. Production had to make a point of scheduling all of John's scenes early in the filming process, because it is no secret how sick he is. One night after filming, you all decide it would be fun to go out to one of the bars, as everyone had been pretty busy, and there hadn't been much time to. Everyone wants to go dancing again! You've had a hard time getting Robert to dance with you since your first night in Ohio. He really doesn't like to since he's so shy, even though he's very good at slow dances. That night, you dance with Chris again, and Meryl dances with Savage, while Robert hangs back at the table with John. John really isn't feeling well; it's one of his bad days, but he never lets it ruin the mood. Savage and Meryl makes their way over to you on the dance floor, and Savage asks, "Hey, can I cut in? I'd love to have a dance partner that pretty!" "Uh, sure, man," Chris answers. Savage practically shoves himself between you and Chris, quickly taking Chris by the hand and putting an arm around him before spinning him around. "Beautiful!" Savage yells, dipping Chris back, getting a round of laughs and even some applause from everyone around. You and Meryl take this as a chance to slip over to the bar, to get a break from your heels. You sit with your backs leaning up against the bar so you can keep an eye on all your friends. "Have you had fun filming with us all this time?" Meryl asks kindly, as she always does. "Oh yeah, it's been really great, and I've been learning so much about the filming process, and you're all wonderful actors to look up to!" "That's so sweet of you. The guys here have all done a wonderful job with their parts so far. Especially Robert. He's been in nearly every scene, and he's so involved with Michael and production. I don't know where he gets his energy!" "Yeah, he stays busy. I sleep in the same room as him and sometimes it seems like I don't even see him," you giggle. "Oh, but when he does get to be around you, it certainly seems you have his attention," Meryl points out, "I know you've said you two are just close, but I really think he likes you." "You think he likes me? Why do you think he likes me?" "Well, he's quite watchful of you, making sure you never get into trouble, especially around Savage. He always has an arm around you when we're hanging out at the hotel. And the way he looks at you. He looks at you... Well, he looks at you the way he looks at me when we're filming." You both look over at Robert and John. John smiles at Meryl and gives her a funny little wink. Robert turns to look when he realizes John isn't looking at him anymore, raising his eyebrows when he sees you and Meryl staring back at him. Him and John turn back to their conversation, shaking off whatever trouble you and Meryl are getting into. "You know the tension between you two is almost unbearable, right?" John says in a casual tone, knowing that this question is anything but casual. "I'm sorry, what?" Robert sputters. "You and (Y/N). It's so obvious to everyone that you have feelings for one another. Well, obvious to everyone but you and her, apparently." He gives Robert a side eye and raised eyebrows. "I mean... I care about (Y/N), but I- I don't have feelings for her. Her dad would kill me." "You don't have feelings for her, or you feel like you shouldn't have feelings for her?" There's a long silence between them. Robert looks up at John in a way that lets John know he's right. "Take it from me, Bobby. Life's too short." With that, Robert stands up, and walks over to you and Meryl, still at the bar. "Excuse me," he starts, always a gentleman, "Meryl, would you mind if I borrowed (Y/N) from you?" "Oh! No, go ahead," she says with a small laugh. "(Y/N)," there's a bit of a nervous tone in his voice, "would you like to dance with me? I know I've been avoiding it for weeks now." "I'd love to," you smile at him. He puts his hands on your hips, lifting you off of the tall bar stool and helping you to the ground. On the dancefloor, he pulls you into his chest with an arm around your waist and a hand tangled in the back of your hair. Your hands rest on his hips, and you slowly sway back and forth together, even when the song playing wasn't slow. It wasn't really proper slow dancing, but you weren't going to complain; you both enjoyed the closeness. That night at the hotel, you decide to watch a movie together before going to bed; you didn't have to be up super early for once. So you both hop into your pajamas, and Robert finds something on the TV and pats the spot on the bed next to him. "I have my own bed, you know?" you joke. "I know, but it's no fun watching a movie that far apart. Would you sit on a different couch if we were in a living room?" "I guess you have a point." You climb onto his bed, and he puts his arm around your shoulders, watching the movie which was already started, but it is close enough to the beginning. Part of the way through the movie, Robert's eyes linger down to your hand resting on your lap, although you don't notice this. In fact, you're quite sleepy. You feel his fingers gently grace over the back of your hand, and you react by turning your hand over for him. He softly traces little shapes into the palm of your hand, and he teases at your finger tips like he wants to lace his fingers with yours. You decide to bite the bullet and go for it. The next time his fingertips grace yours, you slide your fingers in between his, holding his hand. You're both way to nervous to look at each other, so you both just go back to watching the movie while he strokes his thumb over yours. • • • The next morning, you wake up surrounded by the Robert's scent, which is always very nice, but no Robert nearby. You quickly realize that you're still in his bed; you must have fallen asleep during the movie last night. You sit up looking around for your roommate, and you find him in your bed, looking up at you as if he was waiting for you to find him. The sun spilling in through the window and across his face accentuated his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes. He, too, looked like a sunbeam as he grinned up at you. "Good morning, sleepy head. You fell asleep during our movie, and I didn't have the heart to move you, so I figured we could just trade beds for the night," he says lightly laughing. It seemed like he was in a very good mood this morning. "Oh, well thank you for giving me your bed all to myself. It probably would've been way too hot if you stayed over here." "Mmm, I knew you thought I was hot," he has a smug look on his face. "No! I meant like body temperature. You're probably like a human heater when you sleep!" you argue with him. "Well, wouldn't you like to know?" he jokes, getting up out of bed to get ready to go to set. "I don't ever wanna know!" you yell as he closes the bathroom door. Just a little while later, as everyone is heading out of the hotel to get in the big black van and go to the filming location, John looks at you and asks, "So what is it that you don't wanna know?" "Huh?" you reply to John. "We heard you yell at Robert 'I don't ever wanna know!' through the walls a little while ago." You had no idea the walls were that thin, and you wonder what else they had heard. Robert butts in, "Oh, that was just (Y/N) trying to deny that she thinks I'm hot and wants to sleep with me," with a devilish look on his face. "ROBERT!" you yell, hitting him on the shoulder. "That is totally taken out of context, and you know it!" Everyone is roaring with laughter, while you blush a deep shade of pink. Robert puts all of the jokes to rest by telling everyone what really happened, but conveniently leaving out the part about you two holding hands for a while last night. • • • The next few days are pretty normal, although bittersweet, as it is the last few days of filming in Ohio. The cast spends a lot of time hanging out in Meryl and John's hotel room, and everyone goes out to the bar to celebrate on the last night on location. You go back to New York with Robert and most of the cast the day after filming wraps in Ohio. You would have a break for a few weeks before flying out to Washington for filming the hunting scenes. Everyone says their goodbyes at the airport, with John throwing in one final joke, "Invite us to the wedding if you two decide to elope before Washington!" You and Robert were used to it at that point; it was an every day thing that someone made a joke about you two getting together, but it really didn't bother either of you too much. Hell, even you made jokes about yourselves sometimes. Of course, Robert makes sure to take you home himself, or have his driver take you both to your house. You were so excited to see your dad again! You had called him several times while you were gone, but that doesn't mean you didn't miss him. You and your dad share a long embrace as he invites Robert in for a drink before he goes home. Robert kindly accepts coming in to relax for a while. Immediately, your dad notices how much closer you and Robert are, but he figures that spending a month together will probably do that to any two people. He's just glad you've made some important connections in the film industry. The two men listened intently as you spoke cheerfully of all of your experiences and the things you learned during the first leg of filming, Robert adding in some bits here or there. You both decided to leave out the jokes everyone made about you two getting together, assuming it would be an awkward conversation to have. Robert doesn't stay as long as he normally would've, because he has to be up early in the morning to go meet with other producers and directors. He stays so busy; you know you won't see him again until it's time to film. When he goes to leave, Robert pulls you up into a big hug telling you how fun it's been having you around, and that he can't wait to take you to Washington. • • • A couple of weeks go by, and everything is as it was at home with your dad. Except now you miss Robert a lot of the time, because you had been so close. You missed all of the cast; you had all become such good friends. Either way, you tried to keep busy by going to work with your dad a lot and looking into new roles to audition for, although you found yourself more interested in other aspects of film production since going to Ohio. One night, your dad calls you downstairs, because there's a call for you on the home phone. Your dad tells you that it's Robert, and he's asking to talk to you. You weren't expecting to hear from him at all, so you can't help but worry that something is wrong, especially with John being sick. "Hello?" you say into the phone. "Hey, there," Robert's tone is unreadable. "You rang?" "Yeah, I did. Um... I know this is last minute, but I wanted to know if you would come over for dinner tomorrow? My schedule opened up tomorrow night, and I gotta admit I miss you more than I thought I would." "Oh..." you silently thank God your dad had walked off, "just you and me?" "Yeah, I was thinking I could order room service for dinner, and we could watch a movie like we did at the hotel. Plus I think everyone else is probably busy, unless you want me to invite your other boyfriend," he giggles. He was referring to Savage and how he relentlessly tried to hit on you. "Oh, no. I don't think I could deal with both of you," you reply with a laugh. "That's what I thought. So, I'll see you tomorrow at seven?" "Yep. See you then!" The next night arrives quickly, and now the dilemma you're facing is that you have no idea what to where. Is this casual? Does he want you to dress up? You aren't sure, and it's too late to call him; he's probably almost here. You decide to go casual, but not sweatpants casual. Why would Robert want you to dress up to go to his apartment? Seems like Robert went for the same kind of attire, you see when he shows up. You throw a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek to your dad before Robert leads you out to the car with a hand on the small of your back. It's not too long of a car ride to his place, because you both live in the city; however, somewhere in the middle of the trip, Robert abruptly asks his driver to stop at a bakery up ahead. You give the man next to you a confused look, and he smiles saying, "Look, I have to start doing some pretty intense training for another movie, so this might be one of the last times I get to eat cake for a while! I was thinking we could pick something up to have after dinner." There's a brief pause between you two, then Robert quickly adds on, "You can pick out whatever you want! I'll buy it!" You can't help but laugh at his excitement, and you take his hand as he basically rips you out of the car and into the bakery. The smell in the air was incredible; it makes you want to buy everything in the shop. So you and Robert go crazy picking out anything and everything that looks good, all the while giggling like school girls with one another! You arrive at Robert's apartment with bags of desserts in tow, and almost immediately, you're placing an order with room service for dinner. Stopping by the bakery had made you both very hungry. The desserts were left in the kitchen as the two of you make your way to the couch, in an effort to avoid eating all the sweets that smelled so heavenly. Robert quickly found something on the TV, although he didn't turn it up very loud; you both knew you'd be talking anyway. He leans back into the couch, putting an arm comfortably around you. At this point, it wasn't a big deal for you two to be hanging all over one another. "I didn't think I would miss you this much," Robert blurts out, "uhh, I mean, we just spent so much time together, more than I would normally spend with anyone from set." "Yeah? You miss spending the night with me?" you joke. Robert rolls his eyes. You continue, "Miss waking up to my beautiful face every day? Or waiting for me to get out the shower?" "Oh, stop! You know it wasn't like that," Robert said with a grin, but his face quickly drops into a serious look. He reaches up and gently pushes your hair behind your ear. His eyes looked over your whole face, appreciating all of your features, before locking eyes with you. He tangles his fingers in your hair at the nape of your neck and pulls you close, placing his forehead against yours. You weren't completely sure what he was doing, but you weren't mad about it. Almost instinctively, you close your eyes and begin nuzzling your nose against his. At first just bumping the end of your nose against his, and then you feel his nose next to yours as he moves closer to you. Everything feels like it's happening in slow motion. His hand still firmly grasping your hair, a tiny giggle leaves your lips for whatever reason. You feel the hair from his beard tickle your chin, and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you realize he's about to kiss you. His bottom lip barely graces yours, and the doorbell rings. Room service with the dinner you ordered. Your eyes fly open, seeing Robert pull back from you and take a deep breath, washing the intense expression off of his face. "I'm sorry," he says standing up and straightening out his shirt, "I don't know what I was thinking." Before you could say anything, he was opening the door, and dinner was brought in by one of the apartment staff. You took a moment to get it together and put whatever just happened behind you. You assume Robert decided to do the same, because the rest of the evening goes by relatively normal. You both enjoy dinner and of course all the desserts you picked up earlier! Not without lots of laughs anyway, as Robert keep poking fun at you for how you lit up like a child at the bakery. "Oh, like you didn't pick out just as many, if not MORE things than me!" You shout at him, which earns you a laugh from the man next to you. "In fact, it was YOUR idea to go in, Mr. I-have-to-get-in-shape-for-a-new-movie!" He cuts his eyes at you as if to say something, but instead shoves a pastry in your mouth, smearing icing across your lips and chin. You both double over in a fit of laughter, reaching for napkins to clean your face with. Thank goodness that was the highlight of the evening, so you had something other than "oh yeah, Robert almost kissed me" to tell your dad when you got home. • • •

As you would've guessed, you didn't see Robert again until you were headed to Washington. You sit with him on the plane again, but this time, a lot of the cast had different flights, traveling in from other parts of the world. The flight takes most of your day, as it's definitely the evening by the time you are picked up at the airport. Up in the mountains, it is freezing, first of all. Luckily you're from New York, and Washington isn't much further North, so you know how to handle the cold. Second, they have the whole cast and crew staying in cabins that are scattered along the mountain side. It is already pretty dark, but from what you could see, it's beautiful up on the mountain range. You don't have much to do that night, and all of the cast is arriving at different times, and production setup is running behind (the norm with Michael Cimino), so the cast all agrees to have lunch together the next day before shooting kicks off this week. Robert takes you into the visitor's center that presides over the cabins to pick up keys, and the staff even gives you some warm bowls of soup to take up to the cabin with you. Up in the cabin, you quickly cut the heater on, shivering while you wait on the room to warm up a bit. Robert sets down his bags and the soup, and walks up behind you, putting his hands on your arms and rubbing them vigorously. It warms you up pretty well, especially when he puts his warm hands on your neck. "Mm, thank you," you let out in a moan. "It's no problem, honey," Robert says lowly, almost in a whisper. "You okay?" you ask him. "Mhmm... Just sleepy and thinking about that soup," he says wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck, "Feel any warmer?" "Well, I stopped shaking," you sink back into him, and place your cold hands on his warm ones. He moves to put your hands under his, stroking the back of your hands with his thumbs. You stay like that for a few minutes before you break the silence, "You wanna eat that soup? Seemed like you were hungry." "Hmm, yeah." He pulls away from you, rubbing your arms a little like he did before, and walks into the little kitchen to get his soup. The room is a few degrees warmer, but this cabin must have horrible insulation or something, because it's still freezing even with the heater on. By the time you head over to the kitchen, Robert is bringing your soup over to the table. You both quickly dig in; Robert because he was hungry, and you because you're so cold. The soup warmed you up pretty well. The rest of the evening, there wasn't too much to do. Robert watched some TV, you went through your clothes making sure you had enough warm stuff before changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. You figured you should go ahead and try to warm your bed up sooner rather than later. A while later, you're still sitting in bed shivering a bit; Robert stands up and chuckles at you before heading out of the room to change clothes. He comes back in sweatpants and a t-shirt and climbs into his bed. "How are you wearing that to bed?" you ask him bewildered. "Um, just like this," he pulls the blankets up over his shoulders. "It's literally freezing in here. You're not cold?" "Nope, are you?" he has that devilish look on his face, knowing the answer to that question. You shoot him a deadpan look and turn over, ignoring him and trying to get warm. "Goodnight, then," Robert laughs. "Goodnight." You both lie there in silence for a while. Robert watches you tossing and turning, bunching the covers up on top of yourself, and still shivering the whole time. "(Y/N)." "What?" You turn to look at him under your huge pile of blankets. "Come here." "What do you mean, come here?" "Come get in bed with me," he says sternly. "Ooooh, no! You're not gonna get to joke about me sleeping with you all week." "(Y/N), you're freezing, and you're not gonna get any sleep like that. Just... Let me keep you warm." The look on his face was one of concern and sincerity. "You won't make fun of me?" you ask sheepishly. "I won't make fun of you." There was a small pause. "You promise?" "Oh my gosh, yes! I promise," he says with a big smile and an eye roll, "Will you get your ass over here already?" You stand up, and he holds the blankets up for you. You sit down and scoot in close to him. Robert drops the blankets on you, before grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. You make a move to protest, until you realize how warm he is. You resign to stay cuddled up to him and tangle your legs with his. You start to drift off to sleep feeling his breath gently on your forehead and his fingers tracing shapes in your back. "I knew it. You are like a human heater," you joke quietly. Without opening his eyes, Robert groans then whispers, "I knew you thought I was hot." • • • The next morning, you both wake up to the sound of the alarm clock. Robert quickly rolls you onto your back and reaches across you to turn off the alarm. You look up at him as he lingers above you for a moment. He gives you a sweet smile before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It catches you completely off guard, and it's over before you even realize what he has done. He looks into your eyes, and you place a hand on his cheek. It was like a dam broke. You both smash your lips into one another's kissing passionately, hands exploring each other. Robert catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours and pushing your hand up above your head on the pillow. His other hand finds your hair as he continues to move his lips against yours. Your free hand roams his back, while your feet gently rub against his legs underneath the sheets. He pulls away from you slightly, breaking your kiss, both of you breathing heavily. He flashes a toothy smile at you, knowing he looks good, and breathes out, "Good morning!" You giggle and tell him, "Good morning," too. "Hmmm," Robert hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck leaving little kisses there, "it *is* a good morning..." "I guess everyone was right about us, huh?" you point out. "Oh, who cares what they think?" "I think you do, cradle robber." You both try to look at each other seriously, but that always ends in laughter. Luckily it was a slow morning so you could spend some time together, kissing and figuring out whether or not you wanted to tell everyone at lunch. Just before time to leave, Michael came by to check on both of you and tell you that the van was ready. "Alright, we'll be out in a few minutes," Robert told Michael. "See you at the van!" Michael called out as he closed the door to your cabin. Robert turned to you and snuck his hands up the sides of your jacket, just enough for his fingertips to make contact with your skin. You placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other in his hair, while he leaned into you for one last little makeout session before heading out. You felt your back hit the wall lightly, as the door bursts open and John yells, "What's up, lovebirds--OH!" You and Robert turn to see Meryl and John at the front of your cabin giggling, the rest of the group rushing up to see why John shouted so loudly. You quickly push Robert off of you and blush a deep shade of red. Everyone starts laughing, and John looks at the two of you with a huge grin on his face, and says, "Oooh, you two are never gonna hear the end of this."

#Robert De Niro #robert de niro x reader #The Deer Hunter #1977 #we respect John Cazale on this blog 😤😤#John Cazale #meryl streep #michael cimino #robert de niro imagine #de niro

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a-singleboat · 4 years ago

Text

I Need A Hero

Word Count: 4.5k

Request: i am formally requesting an emily fic 😌 i dont want to be needy but em being lowkey but then super protective of you 🥵 angst with a happy ending would be amazing - anon

A/N: Let me know what you think! This is my first emily x reader so :D

Content Warnings: Blood, Reader getting hurt, Reader getting assaulted, kidnapping, swearing, alcohol, drugs

You should have listened to Emily. You really should have listened to her.

Emily was always just a tad bit overprotective of you, sometimes going as far as to asking you to wear a GPS device to clubs especially if she wasn’t going with you. You understood, of course. With her past and her current job, she had to make sure all her bases were covered. You were just one of them.

Though you rarely agreed to the GPS deceive, it was still flattering that she thought of you as important enough to keep track of. Usually, you’d just stick to texting her to let her know where you were. That was good enough for her.

But when she told you to stay home today, you thought that was her just being overly cautious, overly protective, as usual. You should have known better.

Turns out a serial killer with an affinity for women visibly similar to yourself was on the loose, details kept from the public due to the fact that the man was a flight risk. That being, it was painfully obvious why the “unsub,” to use Emily’s terminology, was a flight risk.

He flinched at every sound. At first, you tried to call out for someone--anyone. Well, that gained you a bloody gash on the side of your head. You didn’t make that mistake twice. Instead, you tried to remain calm and complacent--two things that Emily once said would ensure that you’d survive in a situation like this.

“Annie,” the man, Stephen, crooned. He picked up a doll from the table of toys and brought it over to you. From what you could tell, the doll was dirty and half-rotted away, as if it had been buried for a good while. He pressed it up to your face, the side coated in blood, and cooed at you. “Annie, I have Mrs. Buttercup here. Don’t cry, she’ll make it all better.”

You tried not to wince away as he rubbed the doll against your face. If Stephen wasn’t going to kill you, infection just might.

“Th-thank you, Mrs. Buttercup,” you whimpered, hands grasping the end of the armrests. The chair rocked backward as he put pressure on the doll, forcing you backward. You panicked as your feet left the ground, struggling to at least get a toe back on the solid concrete.

God, you should have listened to Emily. If you were going to die, you’d spend the rest of your immortal life regretting the choice you made to leave the house today.

Stephen looked into your eyes, searching for something. You knew all he’d find was fear so you tried your best to wrestle down your emotions. You held back the tears threatening to spill, holding your breath as he leaned in closer.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, the one not wet with your blood. You grimaced at the feeling of his chapped lips against your skin. “I-I didn’t mean to earlier, Annie. You were just being so loud and… you understand, right?”

You nodded, lip quivering as he brought the doll to your chin, tilting your head upward. He forced you to look at him, smearing blood along your jawline as he did.

After a few moments of deliberation, he let you go, the rocking chair swaying back and forth until it settled back into a resting position. “You must be hungry,” he decided, dropping Mrs. Buttercup back into the piles of toys. “I’ll go make you your favorite.”

He flinched as a loud sound came from outside--a car alarm going off. The sound made you relax, however. The sound of a car alarm meant you weren’t in an abandoned factory somewhere. You were most likely in this guy’s basement, or something similar.

Stephen gripped the sides of his head as the alarm continued, only letting go when the alarm finally shut off. He collected himself, fists clenching before relaxing at his sides. His smile returned though you can only really see his teeth in the low light.

“I’ll be back, Annie,” he said, waving at you. “Don’t move.”

The last two words were more threatening than anything he’d actually done, true menace seeping into his voice like a poison. You waited for him to disappear around the corner before allowing yourself to cry, a few tears rolling down your cheeks and mixing with the blood.

You gasped for air, struggling to keep your breathing steady. It wouldn’t do you any good to hyperventilate now. You looked around for something--anything--that could possibly be used to alert someone that you were down here.

God, how long had it been? You lost count after the first thirty minutes. There were no windows so you couldn’t even tell if it was still day. Emily was probably freaking out by now. No doubt she had somehow gotten the entire United States Military involved by now, your safety being the only thing on her mind.

Another ten or so minutes passed without Stephen. You wondered how the other victims had died. Blood loss seemed to be the only thing on your mind, unsure if your head wound had clotted yet. All you could feel was the wet of your own bodily fluid on the side of your face, which didn’t help much. Everything else just seemed numb.

Your head lolled to the side as you heard footsteps approach, unable to lift your head as flashlights combed the ground. You barely reacted as the door got kicked in, eyelids closing as two blurry figures approached you. One of the figures shouted something behind them while the other came to you, patting your face lightly in an attempt to get you to stay awake.

Unable to remain conscious, you allowed sleep to claim you as the person above you shouted more words, all unintelligible as your consciousness faded from reality.

_____

Emily never did like hospitals.

Ever since her “death,” she tried to avoid them as much as possible but now, for you, she would make an exception. She waited in the waiting room alongside her teammates. None of them knew you personally, but they all knew about you. From the stories Emily would tell to the snippets of various phone conversations they accidentally overheard, they could tell that you were something good for their Unit Chief.

She propped her elbows up on her legs, holding her head up as she struggled to stay away. You hadn’t needed surgery but had lost a lot of blood as well as suffered major trauma. The doctors weren’t allowing anyone in as they observed you for any possible signs of infection as well as any withdrawal symptoms from the drugs the unsub had used to knock you out. It was all very dramatic, the extent of your actual injuries being minimal compared to what could have happened.

“Stop worrying.” Morgan reached over, putting a hand on her knee. She hadn’t even realized she’d been bouncing it up and down, too worried about how you were doing. It had been a few hours at that point, nurses going in and out of your room but none of them saying anything about your state of being.

“She’s fine. You know this. Everything they’re doing is just precautionary,” Morgan continued. He patted her knee twice, lifting his hand to point at a white-coated doctor exiting your room. “Look, the doctor’s here now. He’ll tell you that everything’s okay.”

“Y/n Y/l/n?”

Emily stood, smoothing out her blazer. “That’s me. I’m Emily Prentiss, her fiancée.”

A little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when it would get her the answers she needed.

“Well, Ms. Prentiss, Y/n is expected to make a full recovery. The trauma to her head won’t have any lasting effects. She has some bruising on her side, we think from being dropped. We want to keep her overnight to watch for infection and, of course, the withdrawal effects from the xylazine. You may see her now but you won’t be able to stay overnight with her.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Emily said, shaking the man’s hand before he departed. She turned around to face her friends. “You guys can go home, I’ll call a cab back home later. Thank you for being here for me.”

Morgan gave her an incredulous look, standing from his seat. “Emily, if you think we’re just going to leave you then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Yeah,” Garcia piped up. “We’ll be right here for you. None of us are leaving.”

“You would do the same for any of us,” Reid backed her up.

Now Emily wasn’t one for tears but upon hearing the support she got from her friends, she could feel herself starting to tear up. She took a stabilizing breath, thanking them before turning to head into your hospital room.

It was quiet. That was the first thing she noticed. Instead of your infectious laugh filling the void space, it was the steady beeping of the machine connected to your finger, ensuring that you still had a heartbeat. It broke Emily’s heart to see you like this, bloodied and bruised.

She dragged one of the hospital chairs over to your bedside, hesitating before taking your hand up in hers. It was all her fault that you were here. If her job was less dangerous, you’d have still been in your hometown rather than following her all the way to Quantico, Virginia. You probably would have already been married with five adoptive children like you always wanted.

Instead, you're here. In a hospital in Washington DC recovering from being kidnapped by a psycho that Emily most likely unknowingly brought back to your home. If you didn’t hate her after this, she’d consider it a miracle.

_____

The first thing you saw when you came to was Emily’s face full of worry, her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she thought long and hard. Your hand was in hers, still limp as you slowly regained feeling in your extremities.

Very gently, you squeezed her hand, letting her know you were awake.

“Hi baby,” you whispered, your throat a bit scratchy from the lack of lubrication. As if reading your mind, she handed you a cup of water off the hospital bedside table. You took a few sips, keeping your eyes on your girlfriend as she looked deep in thought.

You set the water aside, groaning as you realized your entire side was sore. You couldn’t remember if you hit it against something. From what you knew, the only injury you suffered was your head wound, which was newly wrapped.

You looked her up and down, squeezing her hand slightly to gain her attention. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

Emily bit her lip, carefully picking her next words. “Y/n… I think we should take a break.”

This came out of nowhere. Her words slammed into you harder than a football quarterback would have, stealing all the breath from your lungs as you processed her words.

“What?”

“We should take a break. It’s just--I put you in more danger than you asked for and you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve not knowing when or if I’ll come home. You don’t deserve me dropping plans for a case or forgetting your birthday because I’m working. You deserve someone who can be there and I’m sorry, but I’m not that. I-I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Emily, no. First off, you don’t get to decide what I do and don’t deserve. Second, none of this was any of your fault. I knew what your job was from the very beginning and I chose to stay because I wanted to. So what if you forget my birthday, there’s always next year and so what if you cancel plans, we’ll just make new ones. Emily, please don’t--” Tears pearled in the corners of your eyes as your voice caught in your throat. “Baby, where did this come from?”

She shrugged, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. She let go of your hand, pulling away even as you tried to keep her there. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.”

You couldn’t do anything as she walked out. You called for her, hands shaking as you tried to think of something--anything to say to her as she left your life. The worst part wasn’t even her leaving, you later decided. The worst part was that Emily Prentiss didn’t even bother turning around for one last look. She just left you with your broken heart scattered about the room, leaving you to pick up your own pieces.

_____

You wanted to hate Emily Prentiss. You really did.

The way she just left you leaving you numb until you were forced to feel everything as you underwent twenty-four hours of withdrawal. Xylazine wasn’t something to mess with, you knew that even before you have been drugged with it. But now, two months after you and Emily split paths, you stayed in Virginia.

Why would you move? You’d already built up a life in the state. All your friends were there and so was your job, which you had grown to love despite the overbearing mother that neighbored workspaces with you.

You knew Nancy meant well, that she just wanted to make sure you were adjusting to work well after you’d been kidnapped, but sometimes you just wanted the woman to take a long walk away from you and never return. Right now was one of those times.

“It’s been two months,” Nancy said, looking up from her computer screen. She had been finalizing her schedule for that week, boxing off the times she needed so she could go visit her son in college. “You need to move on with your life. Find yourself another girlfriend or at least go out with your friends. I hate seeing you all mopey like this.”

Nancy had a point. You did need to make an effort to go out, to go back to “normalcy” or whatever. Even your therapist was pushing you to socialize, saying that it could help you get over the recurring nightmares.

“I don’t want to go out tonight, Nancy,” you replied, trying to focus on the work in front of you. The numbers were starting to blur together but you persevered. You didn’t have much longer until the end of work. As soon as you finished the spreadsheet on the screen in front of you, you were home free.

“At least try, Y/n,” Nancy insisted. “Call up some of your friends, hit the club. Even if you don’t drink, at least try to have fun again.”

“But I have fun talking to you. Why do I need to go have more fun.”

Nancy wasn’t taking any of your shit. She packed away her things, powering down her computer. She lowered her standing desk and pulled her purse over her shoulder. “Hopefully you’ll be telling me all about your night out when I see you tomorrow morning. Good night, Y/n.”

Grumpily, you replied, “Good night, Nancy.”

You stayed at the office thirty minutes more and after a solid five-minute debate with yourself, you gave in and called up your friends. Lyndsey and Brenna both said they’d be down while Brent replied with utter regret, saying he had been roped into working the night shift.

And so you drove to Lyndsey’s to get ready, agreeing to be the DD seeing as you didn’t exactly want to get pissed drunk--especially not with Emily still on your mind.

You drove the three of you to the nearest club, showing your IDs to the bouncer and entering without a problem.

“I’m gonna get us shots,” Brenna shouted over the music, disappearing a moment later. You and Lyndsey stumbled over to a table, claiming it for the three of you as the music seemed to grow louder.

Brenna pushed through the crowd to get back to the two of you, two shots balanced in one hand with another in her other. “Y/n, I know you said you weren’t drinking but one drink can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, Y/n,” Lyndsey ganged up on you. She took the two shots from Brenna, holding the second one out to you. “Besides, Brenna already paid for it so you have to.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, giving in to their peer pressure. You figured you were already out, what was one shot gonna do? You took up the little glass, counting down with your friends before knocking back the alcohol. You made a face at the taste, coughing a little as it burned a trail down past your lungs.

“Let’s dance!” Brenna cheered, pulling both of you out onto the dance floor. Laughing, you allowed her to drag you along. She pulled you both on either side of her, jumping up and down as the music pounded into your eardrums, the rhythmic beat coursing through your body.

I made a promise to you, to never let you go.

You swayed to the music, holding onto Lyndsey’s hands as she sang along. She twirled you around, causing you to giggle. Brenna serenaded you from behind, grabbing your hips and making you sway.

But now I see you're moving on and I'm still all alone, oh oh.

From across the club, your eyes connected with a familiar pair. Emily Prentiss stared you down. Around her were her work friends, all drinking their cares away. None of them realized that you were there.

Every time I say I'm happy for you I just lie, oh oh. I made a promise to you and I'm still holding on, oh oh.

You forced yourself to look away, suddenly not in the mood to be dancing. Still, you forced a smile, sticking it out for the rest of the song. As All Mine faded into the next song, you excused yourself for water. Not thinking much of it, they let you go, continuing to dance with each other.

You stumbled off the floor, accidentally bumping into a guy who looked like a frat boy from one of the colleges in the area.

“Sorry,” you apologized, stepping away. Instead of going back to clubbing on his own, he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him.

“No need to be sorry, baby,” he drunkenly slurred, hands already moving down your body. “I’m Chad. What’s your name, princess?’

“None of your business,” you spat, trying to break free of his grip. Your attempts were futile, however, his grip tightening instead of loosening like you wanted it to. Memories of your abduction flashed through your mind as he placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, the feeling of Stephen’s chapped lips pressed against the same cheek causing you to freeze up.

“Please let go,” you whimpered, though your pleas were drowned out by the music. Tears started to fall as he kissed down your neck, your body frozen as he took advantage of you.

It seemed you had an angel on your side that night because Chad was ripped off you not even a moment later, your savior having torn him off your body and thrown him back a good few inches.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Emily said, placing herself between you and your assailant.

Chad squared up to Emily, cocking his head sideways as if to intimidate her. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Emily whipped out her badge, shoving it into the poor fool’s face. “FBI,” she said with authority. “Now scram.”

Chad paled at the badge, most likely never having had a run-in with law enforcement before. He scrambled backward, almost knocking over a dancing couple before disappearing back into the crowd.

Emily turned back around to face you, tucking her ID back in her pocket.

“Are you okay?” she asked you with a gentleness you could almost mistake with care. You scoffed. You weren’t going to fall for that again.

“What the fuck, Emily?” you raged. “You think you can just swoop in and save the day. Newsflash, I don’t need you. I don’t need your help and I most certainly don’t need your pity. You can take your false care and shove it.”

You stormed off, not even letting her respond. You went to find your friends, who had both migrated to the bar.

“We need to leave,” you said, your voice thick with tears. You probably looked like a mess, tears streaking down your face and your body still shaking. You didn’t know if it was anger or fear.

Lyndsey must have sensed something happened because she jumped to your side the second the words came out of your mouth, urging Brenna to finish her drink so that the three of you could leave. You made your way out of the club, collapsing into the side of the building as the tears started to pour.

“What happened?” Lyndsey demanded, yanking a pack of travel tissues from her clutch and handing you one. You dabbed under your eyes, trying to salvage whatever makeup you had put on that night.

“I saw Emily,” you blubbered, accepting another tissue from your friend. “And I said something terrible. Oh, my God. She probably hates me now!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Brenna comforted you, rubbing circles into your back. “But didn’t she break up with you? Baby girl, you don’t need her.”

You were quiet. You didn’t need Emily, but God did you want her. Not a moment went by that you didn’t miss her. She was everywhere. In the dress that you kept in the back of the closet to the little clay tray that the two of you bought together that held your keys. She was everywhere.

“I just miss her,” you muttered, sniffling a bit as you calmed down. You felt ridiculous crying over a woman who made it quite clear that she wanted nothing to do with you.

“Well, you could always talk to her,” Brenna suggested, her hand leaving your back. She pointed to the side where Emily was exiting the club, looking around for something… or rather, someone.

At that moment, she noticed the three of you crouched by the wall. She hurried over, Lyndsey and Brenna getting up to form a protective barrier in front of you.

“Lyndsey, Brenna,” she greeted your friends. “Can I please talk to Y/n?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now,” Lyndsey said, her voice stern. You almost laughed at the thought of Lyndsey using her teacher's voice on Emily. You crumbled the used napkins in your hand, shoving it into your pocket as you collected yourself off the ground.

You put your hand on Lyndsey’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “We can talk.”

“Are you sure?” Lyndsey’s brows knit together, concern showing quite obviously on her face. You nodded, handing her the car keys. “You guys can go wait in the car. I won’t be long, I promise.”

Lyndsey looked between you and Emily cautiously.

“Don’t worry,” Emily said, “I’ll make sure she gets back to you safely.”

With one last look, Lyndsey took the keys and disappeared off to the car with Brenna not too far behind. Brenna turned around last minute, doing the ‘I’m watching you’ movement in Emily’s direction.

The two of you stood together in silence, unsure of what the first move should be. You bit your lower lip, rocking back onto your heels nervously as Emily didn’t meet your eye.

“I’m sorry,” both of you said at the same time, awkwardly laughing as you realized what had just happened. You pulled at your fingers, a nervous tic you had developed after your abduction.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. You looked up at her. “I’m sorry I went off on you back there. You didn’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help.”

Emily shook her head. “No, you don’t have to apologize for anything. If anyone owes an apology, it’s me. I shouldn’t have done anything. You don’t deserve that and you don’t deserve any of what I put you through.”

You swallowed harshly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” Emily said, chuckling as a way to diffuse some of the tension. “I’m a terrible person for what I did to you. I knew exactly what you had just gone through and I still went through with it. I made the choice for you without you even having a say and I regret that.”

“No,” you shook your head. “You’re not a terrible person. Emily, for the past two months I have done nothing but miss you. My goddamn therapist even suggested I reach out to you despite what you did. Breaking up with me while I was in the hospital was a shitty move, I’ll agree, but it doesn’t make you a terrible person. I promise.”

“You miss me?” Emily asked, her voice small. It was a change from her normal confidence. Her vulnerability and insecurity showed through her normally strong front. You couldn’t help but smile at her, taking a step closer to her.

You hesitated before taking her hand in your own. You brought a hand to her face, caressing her smooth features.

“I did--do miss you,” you admitted. “And before you ask anything else, I forgave you a long time ago.”

Emily’s head dropped against your hand, her eyes closing in an attempt to block out the tears that threatened to fall.

“I don’t deserve you,” she muttered.

You ran a thumb over her cheekbone, memorizing her features. “Bullshit,” you said, your voice low. You pulled her closer, standing on your toes so that your lips could meet. It was slow and passionate as you tried to convey all the emotions you felt for her through that simple action. Your arms looped around her neck as she reacted, pulling you in closer by the waist.

The kiss turned desperate as Emily tried to make up for the last time, tears rolling down your face as you realized everything into the abyss. You felt yourself relax into Emily, pulling away as you sobbed.

She put her hand under your chin gently, lifting your face so that your eyes met hers.

“Why are you crying, baby?” she asked, her voice a whisper. She kissed underneath your eyes, most likely tasting the salt of your tears. You couldn’t help it, the tears weren’t stopping.

“I just really missed you,” you admitted, wiping the tears away with the heel of your hand. Emily took your hand in hers, bringing them up to her mouth so she could place a kiss on your knuckles. It was the same gesture she had made two months ago before she broke up with you but this time, the message that came with them was different.

“If you give me another chance, I promise I won’t screw it up,” she said, running her thumb over your knuckles.” I-I promise I’ll work harder on being the woman you deserve.”

You hummed, resting your head on her chest as she drew her arms around you, protecting you from the world and all the evils within it.

“You already are.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @lemirabitur @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000

288 notes · View notes

smol-and-grumpy · 4 years ago

Text

Light My Fire - CH17

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW

WC: 4547

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Y/N wakes up the next day with Dean already out of bed. There’s a tray of breakfast propped on the coffee table. She didn’t even hear the knock at the door when someone brought it. Sleep was bad. It took them both a long time to fall asleep and then she kept waking up during the night.

She blinks the sleep away and sits up in bed. Looking out, she sees Dean. He’s talking on the phone and has gone outside so as not to wake her up. Still feeling tired, she lets herself fall back into the mattress and buries her face into the pillows before pulling the covers over her head. Maybe, if she’s lucky, she can fall asleep again.

There’s the sound of a sliding door, and she hears Dean walking back in. He probably has noticed her moving, and took it as a sign that she’s awake.

“The others will arrive in an hour, you think you wanna get up?”

Well, there goes her sleep.

She peeks out from under the covers and sees Dean sitting next to her on the bed, “The others?”

Dean scoffs, “Yeah, I’m not happy about it either, but apparently Sam and Ruby are seeing it as an opportunity to have a short vacation with the false pretense that he’s my lawyer and he needs to be here to discuss strategy.” He air quotes the word strategy.

“Ruby?”

“She’s coming because he probably wants to impress her,”

“As if he has to try,” she chuckles, and adds, “Are we picking them up?”

“Nah, Jack’s in good hands. Ruby made sure that Jack was on their flight.” Dean’s hand goes under the covers, grabbing her around her waist and pulling her to the edge where he is, “So, you still have time to take a dip in the sea if you want to? I need to go to the front desk and arrange a room for your brother.”

“Not for Sam and Ruby?”

“I think they can manage on their own,”

Y/N smirks, “Can we stay in bed for a little while longer?”

Dean has to smile at that, “Okay, ten more minutes,”

She scoots over again and he gets in, nuzzles his face into her neck while he drapes his arm over her body.

Ruby hugs her so tight, she has trouble breathing but who she was most excited to see is Jack.

“Hey,” Jack smiles weakly, visibly tired because he had to get up so early to be able to catch a connecting flight to get here.

Y/N hugs her little brother around his waist and rests her head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. He’s not little anymore but he’s still little to her, “I’m sorry about all of this, Jack,”

Jack rubs her back and wraps his arms around her, “Don’t worry about it, and hey, I get to be in Jamaica, not bad, eh?”

They chuckle. It’s a great reunion. If only the circumstances were different.

After the initial greetings, they sit down on their balcony. Dean had someone bring in drinks and snacks. Sam’s still on the phone and Ruby is inside, changing into her bikini.

Jack sits next to her and she can feel that he’s a little restless as he can’t hold still.

Dean notices it too, while he pours water into glasses and raises an eyebrow at Jack, “You okay there, Jack?”

Jack’s blushing, “Yeah,”

He usually never blushes but now he does and she doesn’t know what it is, but she thinks it’s cute.

“Do you wanna take a dip in the sea?” Dean asks and grins.

“Can I?” Jack’s face lights up when he hears that Dean basically just read his mind.

Dean shrugs, “I saw you eyeing that blue water, so yeah, knock yourselves out. We’ll start when you’re done.”

That’s pure Mr. Winchester. She thinks it’s a gift that Dean has because he can read people very well. Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so successful.

“Awesome!” Jack stands up and gets rid of his shirt, he was so excited that he boarded the plane in his swimming trunks, bless his heart, “I’ll be right back!”

“Hey, be careful!” Y/N shouts after him but Jack’s already taking a dive.

Dean sits next to her when Jack’s down below, splashing around in the sea, “I like him,”

“He doesn’t like you,” She grins and moves closer to Dean, hooking both her legs over his lap and he strokes her thighs and leans back into the seat.

“I know that,” He says, and she leans back too, places her head on his shoulder. Dean pecks the crown of her head. It’s become so natural for him so show her little affection. Little does he know that it means way more to her than it does to him, “I’ll get him to like me, you just watch.” With another breath he adds, “You know, you two remind me of me and Sam. Just that Sammy is a bigger pain in my ass.”

After another attempt of gathering everyone together, they finally sit down to talk.

“How did Amara know that we’re here?” Y/N voices her thoughts.

“Uh,” Ruby says, “That might have been my fault. Remember her walking in on Friday?”

Yeah, how could she forget that. She was under the fucking desk blowing her fucking boss.

“Anyway,” Ruby continues, “I had the screen open for your holiday resort and since she had to walk past my desk in order to get to Dean’s office, I’m sure that she saw it.”

“It doesn’t really matter, actually,” Dean says, “She’s here, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He clears his throat before he goes on, “I’ve spoken to Ash and I asked him to find out things about Arthur Ketch. Turns out, he’s not a descendant of English aristocracy but a private investigator. It took Ash the whole night to find that out because there’s not much info on the guy.”

“What?” There are a couple of voices throwing that in.

“Means, that he’s here because she paid him to spy on Y/N and me. Probably get some footage of us not being married so she can expose us.” Dean says in a low voice.

“Would someone please explain what is going on?” Jack throws in. He's right. They still didn’t explain their situation to him.

“We’ll get there, Jack,” Dean says, his voice is softer, “I’ll get back to you, alright? Just have a little patience.”

Jack purses his lips into a thin line and leans back in his chair.

“Do you think they’re still here?” Sam asks, “We didn’t see her when we walked through the resort.”

Dean scoffs, “Sammy, it’s Amara, what do you expect? Of course she’s still here. She’s like the black fucking plague, she won’t go away easily,” he sighs, “All I know is that she’s here and we’re being spied on, so since you are all involved, I want you to get your story straight and don’t let anything slip that would jeopardize this, you understand?”

Everyone nods, except for Jack and Dean notices that, too. He walks over to Jack, places a hand on her brother’s shoulder, “I need to talk to Sam for a bit and after that, I’ll be right with you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack snorts, “Sure,”

She can see that Dean is feeling Jack’s rejection, but instead of arguing or explaining more, he gives Jack space. Dean nods his head and walks inside with Sam, leaving them outside.

Y/N and Ruby are floating on swimming mats in the sea below their bungalow while Dean has taken Jack on a deep sea fishing trip to explain it to him. She wanted to go too, but Dean said that it’s something between him and Jack, since he’s the one who put Jack in this situation in the first place.

Jack was quick to agree, because her brother loves fishing. Their dad used to take them finishing a lot while he was still alive. She wonders how Dean knows because Ruby doesn’t know these little details. She’s known Ruby since she started to work for Dean and she’s become her best friend since. Ruby knows a lot about her, knows about her past relationships, but Ruby doesn’t know a lot about her relationship with her brother. Y/N never thought it was relevant to their friendship. All she let Ruby know was that Jack was the most important person in her life.

So the two of them left right after Dean discussed things with Sam and they would be back in the evening. Sam’s somewhere, trying to spot Amara and maybe scare her a little with some lawyer lingo. She doesn’t really know. Fact is, that there’s not a lot that they can do because technically, Amara’s allowed to be here. She wonders why Sam and Ruby came at all, because they aren’t necessarily needed, but as Dean said, Sam saw the opportunity and Ruby’s not going to say no to a couple days of fun in the sun.

“So, how’s things with Sam?” she asks Ruby, because since they arrived all they’ve been talking about is Dean and Y/N’s fake fucking marriage and she can’t listen to that anymore.

Ruby smirks, “It’s good. He took me on a trip to Jamaica.”

Y/N snorts, “Yeah, I can see that. On Dean’s expense, apparently. That cheeky little bastard.”

“I like him, Y/N, he’s the best lover.” Ruby gushes, “I can honestly see us being more than just this, you know? Maybe it’s the beginning of something good?”

“Won’t it be weird when you work for the same company?” It’s a legitimate question.

Although the company’s contract doesn’t have a clause that says that they aren’t allowed to strike up a romantic relationship at the workplace. Still, she can imagine that Dean probably wants to make sure that people stay professional while working. Which is really a little hypocritical of him, given what they’ve already done in his office.

“Well, is it weird for you?” Ruby raises an eyebrow.

Y/N swallows, “We’re not— It’s not—”

Her friend scoffs, “Yeah, sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

“My god, Ruby, it’s really—,” She sighs, “Okay, we get along, alright? But we’re not like, anything, I think? At the end of the day, it’s just business.”

“Who are you trying to fool?” Ruby laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, for God’s sake, wake up!” Ruby squirts water in her direction, “I think everyone knows but you, and that’s pretty frustrating.”

“Know what?” She squirts water back at her friend to conceal the red flush to her face.

Ruby sighs, “How he behaves around you? He always makes sure that you’re okay. Every fucking day he would come by and ask if you’re alright? It was like that since you started in the office. Have you not noticed?” She opens her mouth to protest but Ruby goes on, “And don’t give me that ‘But he’s asking you too’. What do you expect? He’s standing right there in front of us. He can’t be asking you without asking me too.”

“Ruby, that’s absolute bull,”

Her friend snorts, “I started to work there six months before you came along. He did not stop by and ask me once if I’m okay before you got there, Y/N. I never told you that, but I’m telling you now, it’s not his normal behaviour. He cares, and that’s just that. Take it or leave it. But maybe you’re so traumatized by Kevin, that you don’t really know what’s good if it hits you square in your face.”

“It’s just for show,” She mumbles, not entirely sure of her own words either.

“Why do you think Jack’s so hostile towards Dean, huh?” Ruby scoops sea water and drips it over herself to cool down, “I’ve met Jack several times, and think I know him a little, Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, leave Jack out of this,”

Ruby raises an eyebrow, “I won’t. Because you know why? Jack’s overprotective of you. He’s your little brother, he thinks that he has to look out for you. The only way he is like he is with Dean, is because he sees through him. Jack knows and that’s why he’s going to give Dean a hard time because he doesn’t want Dean to break your heart.”

Y/N sighs, “Ruby, it’s really just for show,”

“If you say so,” Ruby shrugs and chuckles to herself.

Ugh, she hates that. Is she really the only one who doesn’t know shit around here?

They’re waiting for Dean and Jack at the restaurant. Dean had called to say that they’ll be in a little later and that they should go ahead and he and Jack would catch up.

So far, there’s no sight of Amara yet. Sam hadn’t found her either. Could it be that they have already left or maybe they’re just really good at hiding in fucking bushes around here. She wouldn’t be surprised if they bugged everything just to hear one of them slip.

They have ordered drinks and were chatting away when Dean and Jack arrive, both freshly showered. Jack already has a little tan from fishing. He looks good. He looks genuinely happy and it’s a drastic change from the Jack that arrived here this morning.

The chair beside her is empty as well as the chair across from the empty chair, and she sees that both of the men were aiming for the one beside her and Jack got there first, but then Jack quickly changes his mind to let Dean sit next to her.

Dean takes a seat and leans in to kiss her cheek. She catches a whiff of his cologne and takes a deeper breath because it smells so good. By this stage, they have perfected their lovey dovey couple routine like Sam suggested on the first day, and Sam grins when he sees how natural they’re handling it.

When she looks up, Jack’s winks before he grins brightly.

She leans into Dean to whisper in his ears, “Who is that and what have you done to my brother?”

Dean has to chuckle at that, “We talked, everything’s fine.”

“No, seriously, what have you done? You exchanged him with a robot, didn’t you?”

He tilts his head towards her. Their noses almost touch, his hand comes up to cup her chin and he kisses her, smirks after he parts, “Baby, it’s okay. We talked it out. We’re good,”

She doesn’t quite trust Dean. Something doesn’t sit right with her but she doesn’t say anything. She’s got to find a time to talk to Jack in private but maybe not here because she never knows who could listen into them. She’ll have to do it as soon as they’re back home.

After the meal when they are waiting for dessert, Dean looks over to Jack, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“Tell us what?” Y/N frowns, already thinking of the worst. Thinking about Jack telling her that he drops out of college or some shit.

Jack grins, “Nothing bad, Y/N. Dean offered me an undergraduate work experience at his company.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be looking into the company for three months, if he wants he can stay longer.” Dean says.

“And what did you say?” She asks her brother.

“Of course I said yes,” Jack’s smile widens, “That’s going to look awesome on my CV.”

She can’t find it in her heart to object. Not when her brother’s smile is so big.

The others went on to the bar but she decided to call it a day. She parts with her brother, telling him to behave or else Sam’s gonna beat his ass. Jack didn’t find it very funny, though. Dean insisted on going to the room with her, although she said that he doesn’t have to.

Back in their bungalow, they strip to their underwear and brush their teeth. She takes her time to wash her face and when she walks out, Dean’s already laying in bed. The AC needs some time to catch up and it’s too warm to pull the cover up.

Y/N slides into bed next to him, curls up to his side and Dean abandons his phone to wrap an arm around her.

Dean kisses the top of her head, “You okay?” His fingers of the hand around her strokes at her chest, goes down to her boob to pinch at her nipple. She yelps out a laugh and he laughs with her.

“Yeah,” She says, turning in Dean's grip to lay her cheek on his chest, “Thanks for talking to Jack. Although I’d like to know what you talked about.”

“If I’d tell you that, I’d have to kill you.”

“Of course,” She groans, and changes the subject because she’s not sure if she wants to know. She’s not entirely sure if the things that he’ll tell her won’t break her heart and for the time being while they’re still in paradise, she’d rather keep up the facade and continue to enjoy what they have, “You sure about the work experience thing for Jack?”

“I’m pretty positive. He’s a bright guy. I think he’ll be a great addition to the company.”

“And you’re not just saying it because you owe him.”

Dean breathes out a weak chuckle, “Well, that I do, too. But no, we got to talk about his studies and I trust my guts. I’ve never been wrong.”

She tilts her head up to raise her eyebrow at him.

“Hey, two or three people this year, it’s not much.” He’s talking about the people he fired.

“Twelve, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, but I did not interview any of them, so it’s not my fault my people don’t have good people reading skills.”

“Oh and you do?”

“I do.” He says, without even thinking. He’s so full of himself, it blows her mind.

“But I don’t know where Jack should stay for the whole summer. Like, my apartment is barely big enough for myself.” She’s only voicing her doubts. She’s sure that they would manage. Maybe she can go live with Ruby for a while.

Dean’s quick to jump in, “He can live with me,”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Dean chuckles, “I have plenty of space and maybe you can drop by every now and then,”

He’s really talking about life after the court date, isn’t he? Talks about her going back to her old life and they resume what they are not and occasionally going to social events together as a fake married couple. She really doesn’t want to think about it yet.

So, instead of spilling him all her doubts, she says, “Yeah, why not,”

Smiling, he pulls her on top of him and one of his hands goes around her waist while one of them tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as he kisses her. She likes that, likes his kisses. They make her forget everything around her. The touch of his tongue electrifies her. It makes her feel something tingling down there and she clenches around nothing.

Yes, it’s good, she decides. She’s going to enjoy the last couple of days. She’s going to take what she wants, fill her heart with only happy memories so she can take them out and relieve them whenever she feels down. Maybe if someone treats her bad, she’ll think back and know that there’s someone out there who could treat her like Dean does.

She kisses along Dean’s jawline, down his throat and he cranes his neck, giving her better access. His scruff feels rough on her tongue. Sucking down a path, she kisses his chest, licks at a couple of freckles and it’s tickling him because he’s chuckling. She works her way to his nipple and Dean moans a little when she sucks and tickles them with the tip of her tongue. Grinning, she works down his body, dips her tongue into his navel before she kisses down his happy trail until she’s slotted between his thighs.

Looking up at Dean, she sees him looking at her with hungry eyes, that are a shade darker than usual. She grins as she lowers her face and places a kiss on his hardened cock through his underwear. She licks a broad stripe across the fabric along his shaft, and he bites down his bottom lip, swallowing down a groan that wants to leave his mouth.

Hooking her fingers into the elastic of his underwear, she slowly pulls the fabric down. His hard cock springs up and hits her nose. She has to giggle and Dean’s biting back his laugh.

She sits up a little to get the underwear off his legs and slots herself back on her elbow in between his thigh, stays on her knees and sticks her ass out for the visual effect. Dean opens up so easily for her.

His dick is hard, and leaking a little at the tip, but she takes her time, her hands are on his thigh as she opens them up a little further. She plants little kisses on either side of his thigh, close to his balls and he groans some more.

“Tease,” She hears him say and chuckles at that.

Finally she plants a kiss on his sac, and begins to lick and suck him there. She still doesn’t touch his dick but she feels it twitching and it feels heavy on her nose and forehead. Her tongue works around one ball, sucks it in to release it with a lewd pop and then she goes further down, licks on the underside of his sac, and Dean opens up his legs some more, giving her better access.

She’s learned that trick from Ruby. She said men would not admit it but a whole lot of them like it. She always wondered if Dean does, and apparently, the answer’s yes.

Her hands lift up his legs, and he spreads them even more as she toys her tongue along his rim.

“Jesus fuck—”

Chuckling, she licks some more, his balls are resting on her nose. God, he tastes even good there.

Dean’s breathing hard above her and she moves further up again, taking his leaking tip into her mouth and starts to bob her head. She can’t take him to the hilt, but she really tries, gagging around his dick as tears start to pool in her eyes.

After a while she changes into normal sucking, works the hard lengths in her hand while she toys at the tip of his dick, paying attention to the sensitive string.

“Just like that,” He whispers low and deep, “Good girl, looking so good with my cock in your mouth, baby.”

At these words, she bobs her head a little faster, sucks a little harder and Dean has to pull her off abruptly, “Woah, not so fast,” He chuckles with a shudder, “Don’t wanna blow too soon.”

He pulls her up by her arm, kisses her roughly, all sloppy wet and he groans as he sucks his own taste off her tongue, “Come on, ride my face,” His fingers are already tearing at her panties, pulling them down and she stands up to step out of them. She kneels down and his hands quickly finds her pussy, threads his fingers through her folds and unceremoniously plunges two of his thick fingers inside, making her moan out loud while he latches at her tit to suck and bite at her nipple. Her hands find his head, fingers digging into his scalp.

“God, I want you inside,” She moans as his mouth licks a wet trail to her other nipple.

“I have to taste you first,” He groans with her nipple in his mouth, “Just a couple of licks, please? Fucking love how you taste,”

She’s awfully wet but she just got wetter hearing his words.

What is this man doing to her?

Dean lets the nipple out of his mouth with a smacking sound, and he breathes hard as he slides down the bed a little and maneuvers her on top of him.

Fuck, his mouth seals around her clit and he starts to lap at the juice around her cunt. His hands are on her boobs, kneading them and tweaking her nipples. It feels so good and she can’t help but grind down into his face. Dean doesn’t seem to mind because he’s humming. It sounds as if she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten and the sound of it turns her on.

Y/N’s so close to coming but she can’t possibly come on his face, can she? She’ll make him all messy and— oh god, there’s no stopping the pleasure wave that rolls through her legs up to her cunt. She’s coming strong and hard, pushes her pussy down into Dean’s face and she’s almost falling off him if it wasn’t for his hands on her tits keeping her upright.

She climbs off him, sits square on his chest with her pussy still tingling and Dean laughs, his face shiny from her cum.

His smile is cocky, all bravado and boyish youth, “Told ya it wouldn’t take long,”

She rolls her eyes and he slaps on her ass, “Come on, ride me,”

Dean helps her move down because she doesn’t know if she can on her own with her body still trembling. But when she regains her composure, she lays his twitching dick down and spreads her wet pussy lips around it, grinding on his shaft. It gives her the right friction but apparently, he thinks she’s a goddamn tease.

Y/N gives in, slips his dick inside and sits down slowly, letting him stretch her wide and he groans at the squeeze. She’s always so much tighter after she comes and it would take her a little while for the cramping of her walls to go away.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she starts to ride him, and he helps her with his hands around her hips. She switches into grinding after a while and has to moan out loud at how deep he’s inside.

“You looks so good,” Dean’s hand works up her stomach, cups at her tits and twirls at her nipple, making her arch her back, “Fucking perfect,”

She feels her orgasm approaching again, because her clit rubs perfectly against his pelvis and his huge dick is in her fucking cunt, oh my god, she fucks him faster. She comes with a loud moan, pressing her legs together and Dean squeezes his eyes shut at the pressure, he pulls her down by her arms, crashing her lips to his as he grunts out into her mouth and he buckles his pelvis up, his dick throbs and twitches in her cunt.

“Fuck,” He breathes out against her mouth, kisses her there, and pecks her nose, “Fuck,” He repeats and he smiles at her.

They take another shower before they settle back into bed and Dean has already turned off the lights when his phone rings.

He takes it to look at the screen, “Chuck,”

CH18

#light my fire #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #ceo!dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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kitkatopinions · 4 years ago

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Mercury Black.

Mercury for the RWBY asks post! One of my favorites in the Villains Group!

My top three ships for the character

I’ve shipped some pretty weird things for Mercury via fan fiction, so this list is a little bit weird, but uh... Mercury/Yang could have such an interesting dynamic and relationship if Mercury gets redeemed and works hard to be better. Another fun one is Whitley/Mercury. I’m sorry lol, but while writing a fic with a mutual wherein Mercury and Whitley were forced to interact as Watts was living in Schnee Manor and using Jacques, and the two of them ran away from their abusers together and had to rely on each other to survive... I started kinda shipping these two! It only works in AU fics right now (and was less weird when I thought Whitley was fifteen and Mercury was sixteen/seventeen.) Also, I don’t hate Mercury/Emerald. I tend to see them more as siblings, but dang, there’s some good artwork that has made me start seeing the chemistry there.

My three least favorite ships for the character

Mercury/Oscar is... Not my favorite. XD They’d have older brother, younger brother energy only and that’s it. Nora/Mercury is something I don’t think would work at all. And Adam/Mercury... Ew, I mean, it’s kinda ew. But I literally had to look up a list of ships and go ‘I don’t hate that’ for a lot of them to find three I definitely don’t like. He’s pretty easy to ship with a lot of people!

My biggest criticism for the character

There isn’t enough of it. The character Mercury does have is pretty good, but he’s used so sparingly that I almost forget he’s a character at times. He should’ve had a bigger role in the story, they should’ve put more emphasis on his relationships with more than just Emerald, they shouldn’t have dropped him out of season eight before he could do anything. We need to know more about him and see him vulnerable and have him be relevant to the plot again, or he’s in danger of becoming boring.

My favorite thing about the character

I love his versatility. I already talked about him being easy to ship with a lot of people, but it’s more than that. The knowledge that he just goes with things even if they’re crazy (”I killed my dad and then this lady showed up talking about destiny and took me to a castle with a magic demon woman so here I am”) makes him a character that can be put into a lot of situations. You want to get him redeemed? Throw him into a situation where he’s with the right people and away from the wrong ones and his character naturally starts adjusting to fit that. You want him to be sad and whumped? Isolate him with someone like Tyrian or Watts and let him suffer. Want him to be a hero from the get go? If Ironwood or Qrow had found him instead of Cinder, he can be! He can go to Beacon or be in Atlas as the friend of Penny! He’d adjust to that! Want him to be a wildcard grayer scale character who isn’t on the heroes side or Salem’s side? If Roman and Neo had found him instead of Cinder, he can be that! He can view Roman as a father figure. He could’ve run away from home when he was younger, found Ren and Nora, and become attached to them. He could’ve been friends with Team SSSN if he’d been sent to Haven before moving to Beacon. He could’ve been found by Raven and the tribe and become attached to them. He’s a character you can put into almost any scenario on any side and it’d work!

A headcanon I have about them

In my headcanons, Mercury was raised isolated and didn’t go to school, so Emerald saying he’s socially awkward wasn’t a lie at all. Mercury can’t hold a real conversation with anyone outside of talking about plans and illegal action... And Emerald, who he doesn’t want to admit is his best friend. Also when he went to Beacon, he started getting interested in all kinds of hobbies and things he’d never heard about before. He liked going to the library because there were always kids reading and playing games that looked interesting. He loved checking out the booths at the Vytal Festival and trying foods and wondering what the hell cotton candy even was. Emerald was constantly rolling her eyes about it, but she secretly found it endearing and it made her feel a little less cynical herself.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

He needs to be involved. I don’t know why he constantly got shafted, but he should’ve had a proper second fight with Yang, he could’ve gotten dropped into Atlas with Watts instead of Tyrian (or along with Tyrian.) And I know this is a bit of an unpopular opinion, but I think Mercury should’ve been the one to start his redemption in season eight and Emerald should’ve been given time to work through her Cinder issues some and get redeemed maybe in season nine. Like I said, Mercury is versatile, he never had someone who he was committed to and believed in amongst Salem’s followers outside of Emerald, he didn’t care about the cause, and he’s deeply connected to the trauma of being abused by his father. Like many Merc fans, I think he should’ve gotten a wake up call when he saw Oscar getting abused, and tried to convince Emerald to leave with him, and I think Emerald should have said she had to stay and try to talk to Cinder about what she’d heard Oscar tell Hazel. Mercury is reluctant, but agrees, and he’s the one who starts escaping with Oscar. Yang’s frustration and hesitance in trusting him would be more personal, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be Penny’s murderer that everyone (and Penny!) is working with so easily, then, either.

What I I think of their character allusion and what (if anything) I would change about it

Mercury (mythology) was the god of messengers, thieves, commerce, travelers, and trade. His predecessor in Greek mythology, Hermes, was a messenger of the gods and called ‘a divine trickster.’ If that sounds weird, it’s because it is. If that sounds like it fits more with Emerald, that’s because it does. Emerald, the thief, who steals from sales people and takes the reins in every deception and most conversations with other people, who carried out Cinder’s orders from Salem and was arguably one of the biggest contributors to the Fall of Beacon (messenger of gods,) who was the one to tell Salem why they’d failed in Haven, and then later was the one delivering Oscar back to the group and the first face Ironwood sees when he realizes he’s been tricked by Ruby’s group. Emerald could be argued as the messenger role here. I truly believe that they made Mercury based off of the god of Roman/Greek mythology only because he has special shoes. Mercury does connect to Hermes/Mercury as a guide to the dead, leading them to the Underworld. As an assassin, this is treated literally in the RWBY world, but he isn’t really utilized in that way! Other than murdering his abusive father, Mercury’s direct kill count is at one the same as Emerald (who is Penny’s murderer, period.) The only other connection is a very lose one - Hermes’ role as a boundary crosser reflects Mercury’s loose morals and his easy slide into villainy, but also his potential to cross over to another side at the drop of a hat as I already established. As I already said, I’d have Mercury either replace Tyrian when Watts goes to Atlas, or I’d have him join the two, and act as an assassin there, increasing his role of guiding the dead to the Underworld. And having him be the one to deliver Ozpin/Oscar makes him more of a messenger of the gods, but I would also give him some important information about Salem to deliver to Ozpin as well. And I’d also have Salem ask him and Emerald to tell her what had happened at Haven and have him play more of a role when Cinder went to talk to Raven in the mid seasons. I’d have Mercury used to deliver information from Cinder to Roman in the early seasons, and just over all increase his connections to the various big names around him and give him a lot of information. I might also have Watts add some sort of Iron Man/Shadow the Hedgehog sort of flight capabilities to his boots in the seventh and eighth season sort of like Penny’s flight abilities just to get the whole ‘winged shoes’ thing. But I’d make sure that his flight is sporadic and rough-around-the-edges, worse than Penny’s, and something he can’t always rely on or use for long. Idk, I just think that’d fit with his personality really well.

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heartsofbeskar · 4 years ago

Text

from the ashes

chapter six | read on AO3

din djarin x oc

WARNINGS: violence, swearing

WORDS: 3.2K

EXCERPT: He extended his other arm to her. Stepping as close as she could, she wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders. The arm he had held out to her now circled her waist, pulling her even closer. She could feel every curve and edge of his armour through her clothes. His helmet turned towards her.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PREV | NEXT

Ten couldn’t think of a better sound than the Ursa’s engines finally running again. Decidedly less strained than before, she thought. Though that may have just been wishful thinking.

They’d been sequestered on the asteroid for the better part of two standard weeks. The time they’d lost was valuable, but nothing compared to the time they’d lose if the Ursa bailed on them mid-flight.

On the surface, spending time with the Mandalorian was not too much different than spending time alone. He barely spoke unless he was spoken to, and moved around like a ghost, despite the heavy armour. But there was something … imposing about the man. Not threatening, but Ten could feel his presence in a room, sometimes even feel his eyes on her. It wholly unsettled her— not that she’d let him know that.

Much — well actually all — of their conversation in the recent days had centered around where the hell to go next. It was obvious an Imperial conspirator had inside knowledge of the job and that Ten and Mando were the ones working it. They had a list of contacts from Greef Karga who may have information; to seek out those contacts now would surely be suicide, for everyone involved.

“You feel sure about Ronhar Kraz?” Ten asked. The armoured man sat to her right nodded slowly. Kraz was a businessman who specialized in textiles and linen trade between the core and the Outer Rim. Seemingly benign, but he used those same textiles and linen to smuggle weapons during the days of the Empire. For both sides.

“It feels too obvious,” she mused. “Former weapons smuggler turned Imperial double agent. Why even attach your name onto this if so many people in the Outer Rim know you worked with the Empire?”

“You’re assuming a level of intelligence and foresight I don’t often attribute to Imps,” he said.

“That’s the mindset that gets you fucked over eventually,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Is that what happened to you?”

Ten turned her head sharply, glaring at him. “You should watch that metal mouth or I’ll find something that will bend beskar.”

She heard a short breathy noise she’d come to known as a laugh processed through his modulator.

They’d almost passed through the outer boundary of the asteroid field, so she focused on steering through the last of the rocks. An itch had settled under her skin in the past few days, an urge to go, go, go, escape the confines of this belt they’d found themselves unexpectedly marooned within. As much as she still dreaded getting tangled up in Empire business, she felt that coursing of adrenaline in her veins that had been escaping her for many months now. That thrill of her life being put on the line of her own volition.

That adrenaline spiked again as they were fired on.

—

“Shit!” Ten cursed, the ship veering sharply upon impact. Din reacted on instinct, seat spinning towards the weapons controls he’d made a point of committing to memory. “They must have followed our ion trail to the edge of the belt. Have the fuckers just been waiting here the whole time?”

Another hit struck them, almost sending Din flying into the viewport. As he lurched, his gaze locked on the ships in front of them, before Ten steered them quickly away in an evasive maneuver. The ships pursued. He wasn’t surprised he recognized the ships, but he was surprised that—

“Those are New Republic ships. That’ll be why we weren’t vapourized on sight.” He paused as he attempted to target lock the ships still following close behind. There were too many asteroids lingering in the belt’s gravitational pull for them to jump to hyperspace. He needed to buy time. “Are you wanted?”

Ten didn’t look at him as she pushed their speed, but he could somehow feel her rolling her eyes at him. “No, I’m not an idiot. Even if I was, the Ursa’s totally off register, there’s no way—”

“Torpedo approaching lower left engine exhaust,” he interrupted. Cursing again, she took them as far right as possible — and right towards a large asteroid. Din braced, but she slowed their speed enough to whip them quickly around its circumference. He had to admit she was an impressive pilot.

“Are you wanted?”

“...Yes.”

“Now why am I not surprised by—”

She was cut off by the incoming communication alarm. They exchanged glances before Ten reached forward and set off the acceptance switch.

“Unidentified vessel,” came the drone of a New Republic officer. “Cut your engines immediately and prepare for boarding.”

“And why the hell should we do that?” Ten snapped, taking them through a narrow gap between asteroids. Din rolled his eyes now beneath the helmet.

“You are wanted for the murder of Jula Lars. Cut your engines immediately and prepare to be taken into custody. Failure to comply can result in—”

Ten slammed her hand down on the controls and cut off the channel. Din noticed her other hand tightening on the steering gears, knuckles going white. The scars he knew to be there were barely visible.

“Those fuckers … do you have a target lock on the ships? I’m going to blast them from the fucking sky,” she snapped.

As lightly as he dared, Din placed a hand on her arm that was closest to him. “They’re only doing their job. Obviously the Imps put them on our tail. No one else knew we were there.”

“Oh and you’re now the sudden pacifist?” she turned her head to glare at him. It felt like ice began flowing through his veins.

“We don’t need to help create more victims to the Empire,” he said lowly. Something flashed in her eyes. She kept eye contact with him for as long as she dared before turning forward to continue steering.

“Fine,” was all she said. A pause. More shots volleying around them, missing the ship as it weaved. “Then we need to go to hyperspace. Now.”

“There’s still too many asteroids we could—”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, Mandalorian,” she said, and she was already engaging, then ramping their speed and then— rocks flew past them as superliminal speeds as they were catapulted into hyperspace. Din held his breath the entire time, certain they were headed straight for a rock which, at these speeds, would vapourize them for sure.

He let it go when he realized they were clear. Looking beside him, he saw Ten staring at him, her scarred eyebrow raised. “I told you to trust me.”

He scoffed, still feeling on edge. “Set the course for Leotis IV.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

—

Ten landed the Ursa as discreetly as she could, a few kilometres out from the Kraz estate. Thankfully it didn’t seem the New Republic had any insight on where they were going, only where they had been. But there was no guessing how long that would last.

Mando was in the hold, already securing his blaster into his belt. She recognized a couple other models and … something that didn’t look like a blaster at all. Before she could get a longer look his cloak fell over it.

“Kraz’s estate only has minimum security in place. Security cameras, only two from the back, no motion sensors,” she said, opening up the weapons compartment.

“How do you know all this?” Mando asked, entering her field of view. She looked up from where she was sheathing throwing knives. She shrugged at him.

“You hunt people, I hunt information. It’s my business to know my way around prominent figure’s properties.” Reaching up, Ten finally grabbed her blaster from the top shelf it sat on. She knew she could very likely do this without it, but it would probably appease Mando.

“If he is working with the Empire, he may have increased his security since your latest information,” he noted. She nodded as she hung her own cloak around her shoulders.

“At least then it would make for a challenge,” she said, nodding her head towards the door.

They closed the distance from the Ursa on foot so as not to be seen by anyone on the grounds. The tree cover was just enough to hide it from view overhead. Mando seemed to want to take the walk in their usual state of silence, and Ten didn’t complain.

As they walked, Ten admired the foliage that seemed to grow at mostly knee height on this planet. It bloomed undisturbed in the gaps left by the trees, enjoying the unrestricted sunlight. The rays seemed to bounce off the petals which appeared in every colour.

It made her think of Yaim. The trees there had been much denser, and wider. But the air seemed to vibrate in the same way, the wind so delicate Ten could almost close her eyes and imagine it was tender fingers on her cheek.

She reached out, as she would always do when she was a girl, and felt that unwavering presence, its weight bearing down on her bones and her soul alike. But … less heavy than usual, which surprised her.

Finally, they reached the wall which indicated the edge of the property, It wasn’t high, maybe four or five metres by Ten’s estimation. The surface was uneven, and she grabbed a hold of the texture, testing it.

“This should work. If we can scale to the—” She was cut off by a sharp whizzing noise beside her. As she examined the grappling hook connected to his vambrace, she was absolutely sure he was smirking beneath the helmet. “Or we could do it that way.”

He extended his other arm to her. Stepping as close as she could, she wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders. The arm he had held out to her now circled her waist, pulling her even closer. She could feel every curve and edge of his armour through her clothes. His helmet turned towards her.

“Hold on tight,” was all he said, and then they were rapidly ascending up, up, past the rough stones in the wall, until Mando swung them onto the top, which was thankfully flat. “You can let go now.”

“Right,” she breathed. Shaking her head, she turned towards the building now filling their view. As she’d planned, the route to the wall had taken them close to the back corner of the property. If her information was current, Kraz only had cameras facing his back and front entrances. “You’ve got a scope on that pulse rifle, right? Can you see the cameras on the back wall?”

Swinging the rifle around to rest on his shoulder, he wordlessly aimed at the building. Ten studied his stance from the corner of her eye. His feet were heavy, planted shoulder width apart. He didn’t sway as the wind picked up, a solid beskar statue in the foreign landscape.

Suddenly he fired once, then twice. Ten flinched at the unexpected noise. Finally, he spoke. “The cameras are taken care of.”

“A little warning next time?” Before he could respond, she flung herself from the wall. She braced herself on her hands as she landed, Mando dropping beside her a moment later. She held up a hand.

After a few beats of silence, she nodded at him. “Seems like they haven’t upgraded security after all,” she noted, moving towards the back entrance. As they got closer, she saw that the cameras were indeed demolished by the shots.

“Don’t suppose you know the interior blueprints as well?” Mando asked at her left shoulder.

“No,” she shook her head. “Those are usually harder to get a hold of. But I have been hired by many men like Kraz. They like to keep their personal offices in the back of buildings, it makes them feel safer for some reason. See that window?”

She gestured directly above them, where the largest window on the back facade sat. It was also the only window inset with what appeared to be rare minerals.

“I agree,” Mando said before she could finish. “That’s a good place to start. After you.”

Ten examined the back entrance, gliding her hand along the smooth edges of the metal. The locking mechanism blinked orange gently, and she recognized an optical scanner. But beneath that … a keyboard override, hidden under an unlocked panel. Perfect.

Taking one of her daggers from her belt, she was able to tear off the cover of the keypad box with her hands. Ten held the dagger up. It was one of her favourites. The handle was nondescript, simple, fitted perfectly to her grip. Its blade was stronger than any other she owned, and she strongly suspected it had been mixed with beskar, though she couldn’t be sure. Maybe she would ask the Mandalorian.

She pried under the edge of the keypad, battling metal on metal, leveraging with all her strength. Finally, as she expected, her metal won, and the bottom edge of the keypad popped off with a satisfying crack. She cut every wire she found lying underneath, one by one until—

The door slid open with a whirr as the orange light went dark.

“Would’ve been faster to shoot it open,” said Mando.

“And set off every alarm they have in this place.” She strode past him into the building. The cement walls echoed her footsteps, but there was no other sound bouncing off them. The overhead lights flickered slowly.

The hallway branched into a T shortly ahead of them, and her and Mando took to a side of the wall. Nodding, they inched over the corner, blasters drawn. Ten found a long corridor on her side, ending in a window. There were no doors. She spoke first, in a low tone.

“All clear here.”

“Here too.”

Relaxing marginally, she turned. The other direction appeared much the same, with another doorless hallway. Ten shrugged.

“Your choice is as good as mine.”

Mando wordlessly started down the hall to the right. She followed, pulling her hood over her head as she did. She ran her hand lightly along the wall. It was cold to the touch. She tightened her grip on her blaster.

A stairway emerged at the end of the hallway, and they followed silently. The next level was similar to the first, though featured more hallways going deeper into the building and an occasional linen draped on the wall. Finally, they came to a wide door, inlaid with the same mineral as the exterior window.

It was empty inside. A large wooden desk occupied much of the room, facing towards the ornate window. The sunlight streamed in freely, casting multicoloured shapes over the room. It reflected off Mando’s beskar as he approached the computer terminal on the desk.

“The communications log should give us enough information on whether he’s working with the Empire.” He called up a projected screen, gloved fingers running over the controls. “Should be … here. Most people don’t even restrict access. We can download it to look at on the ship.”

Ten nodded. She moved towards the window. Closer to it, she could see the small bubbles enclosed in the inlays. It felt rough. She wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to touch today, but it felt as if a live wire had been inserted beneath her skin, the smallest of currents lighting her nerves.

“Done,” came Mando’s modulated tone, pulling her attention. “We should go—”

Before he could finish, the latch clicked in the door. They both watched, unable to do anything, as the handle turned and the door opened fully.

A human man stood there, looking down at his holopad at first. Mando raised his blaster slowly. By the time the man looked up, it was directly in front of his face, and his eyes widened as he took the two of them in.

“W-who the hell are you?” he asked shakily. “You shouldn’t be in here, I …”

“We’re going to walk out of here,” Mando said calmly. “There’s no reason to panic. You’re going to stay in this office for five minutes, and then go about your day. Got it?”

The man’s eyes darted rapidly back and forth between them. Ten tried to soften her eyes, to urge him to listen. She wasn’t sure it worked.

Faster than either of them could react, he screamed out, tripping backwards over himself out of the office. Mando fired down into his leg and he collapsed, screaming more, but it was too late, the damage had been done.

As they sprinted out and away from the office, Ten could already hear the sound of boots echoing off the walls. They’d almost reached the stairs when a group of armed security burst out of a hallway in front of them. It was six on two and damn if Ten didn’t like those odds.

Blaster fire broke out almost immediately. Just as quickly, Ten lost track of Mando in the shuffle, but it didn’t matter.

She shot at the two men in front of her, electing for quantity over quality in her aim. She managed to hit one somewhere in the torso and he crumpled to the ground. After a number of other shots she hit the next man in the shoulder, which worked to her advantage. He dropped his blaster with a shout, but stayed on his feet.

Ten pulled two of the small knives from her belt. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she aimed before whipping it forehead. It spun in the air before hitting its mark, buried inside the man’s neck. He sputtered as he fell to his knees, then onto his face.

Spinning around, she saw Mando taking down a fifth officer behind her, two others already on the ground. She counted quickly.

“Where’s the sixth one?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mando grunted, dropping the officer to the ground. He raced toward the stairs and she followed.

It appeared they were mostly in the clear, the branch off to the door just ahead of them. Ten led ahead, turning the corner first.

She was met with a blaster pressed to her forehead. It was the sixth officer, her hands shaking as she pressed the barrel harder into the skin.

Ten couldn’t even consciously control her response. It didn’t matter that Mando stood just behind her.

Her hand reached up in front of her, gripping seemingly around nothing, pushing forward. She pulled on the invisible field which was always with her, calling on it. Slowly the barrel of the blaster moved away and so too did the officer, beginning to cough and sputter as her windpipe closed. Ten panted, squeezing tighter and higher, and now the officer was a good three metres in front of her, feet lifting off the ground, eyes rolling into her head. With a grunt, she quickly jerked her arm to the side, sending the officer flying into the wall. The crumpled figure on the ground didn’t move.

“You just …” came Mando’s voice behind her. She turned to look back at him. “You’re a Jedi.”

“We don’t have time for this but let’s get one thing straight. I am not a Jedi.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x original character #din djain #din djarin x oc #din djarin x original character #din djarin fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #mywriting

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years ago

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Friends

Present day

“(y/n)!” Harry’s voice echoed through your flat and you laughed quietly, covering your mouth with your hand so that your hiding space would not be revealed. It was the first time seeing Harry in almost 4 months, which was nearly a record for the two of you. Unfortunately due to Harry being in LA when the COVID-19 crisis began, your longtime streak of seeing each other at least twice a month had been broken and you had been separated, forced to only chat through text, calls, and FaceTime. It worked....but it wasn’t the same. You missed his arms around you, the way he laughed at your jokes, winked when he wanted to get his way, and of course his dad jokes. Harry had been your best friend for over 10 years now, which meant you had been with him through it all. From the auditions at the X-Factor to One Direction and then his solo career. You were the one thing that was always a constant in his life, just as he was a constant in yours. “(y/n)....” Harry’s voice was quieter but closer, he must've heard you laughing. You held your breath, preparing to jump from the corner of the kitchen as he walked around. His body past the nook you were hiding in, his hair held up with a clip, jogging shorts and jacket on. Harry stood in the living room with a frown looking around. “Where did yo-”

“Ahhhh!” you jumped out, grabbing his shoulders and jumping onto his back with a laugh. “Hey there.” you giggled into his ear.

Harry laughed and shook his head, “Jesus woman, why can’t you just greet me like a normal person?”

“Normal people aren’t fun and you know it.” you hoped off and he spun around arms open. You walked into them with a smile. “I missed you.”

“I missed you to love.” He pressed a lingering kiss onto the top of your head, your cheeks blushing pink and the butterflies slowly taking flight in your stomach. Even though you had been friends for 10 years, only recently in the last 2 years had you realized that Harry made you feel a certain way, almost as if you had just realized that he was no longer a 16 year old boy, but a grown man. Of course, you had never acted on these new feelings. You supported him through relationships and break ups, never crossing the friend lines that been drawn early on in the relationship. You pulled away from him reluctantly, looking into his emerald green eyes. “How have things been?”

“Well...I broke up with Max...”

“Thank god, it’s about time. He was terrible.” Harry smiled while jumping onto the couch and you just shook your head at him, continuing on.

“Other than that, same old same old. Been waiting for you to come home. It’s been so long, I’ve resorted to drinking with Lou.” you shrugged and watched his facial expression change.

“Ah I did hear that. I’ve received some videos of you two laying around the pool absolutely wasted.” You bit your lip wondering what exactly Louis had sent him. Even though Harry was your best friend, you and Louis had really connected during the days of One Direction and you stayed in touch with him over the years. You could tell him anything, and in fact, you did tell him everything, including your newly found feelings for Harry. Louis had endlessly teased you days after the confession, but if Harry knew anything, he didn’t let on.

“It’s a good time.” you laughed, letting out a breath of relief knowing your secret was still safe while crawling across the couch to his lap. You let out a gentle sigh as you fell into your favorite position. Your head on his shoulder, your legs tucked up and across his legs. “How are things with you?”

“Well I had to reschedule tour, I participated in some of the protests in LA and then also have been working on some writing and the One Direction reunion and anniversary stuff.”

“Ohh yeah. Louis won’t tell me shit about that. Wanna clue me in?”

“It’s a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yeah, can’t tell ya, I’d have to kill ya and why would I ever want to have to do that to my best friend.”

“Ugh...” you groaned. “No fair. I’ve been with you through it all. I feel like I should be the first to be clued in.”

“Well on July 22 at 11:59 pm, you will be the first to know.” Harry gave you a wink to which you just rolled your eyes and focused on the tv.

“Can you at least tell me if I’m in any of it?” you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes.

“I didn’t know you were part of the band” he teased.

“I mean, I basically am. I was there for like every major event wasn’t I? I’m the one who got you all through the drama....the interviews....shows....pretty much everything come to think of it.”

“Hmm is that so?” Harry shifted so that you were lounging in his arms, his eyes able to focus on you.

“Mhm...”

He pressed a kiss to your nose and grinned. “I think you may be right there... but that doesn’t mean you’re involved in whatever it is we are doing.” You wanted to think of a comeback but your brain was a little fuzzy after watching his lips move to your nose. You sat up and moved off of his body, trying to ease your body’s tension.

“Can you believe it’s been almost 10 years since you auditioned...”

Harry shook his head with a smile. “No I really can’t....it’s been a decade since my life has changed....”

“Look at everything you’ve done in 10 years....it’s pretty crazy.” You closed your eyes, allowing your brain to think back to that day. The day you knew it would all change for him.

July 23, 2010

“(y/n)?” his voice squeaked through the phone. You could hear the tears and the slight shake of his breath. Oh, no.....he didn’t make it.... You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, waiting to console him.

“Yeah?” you managed to squeak out, your heart aching for the curly haired boy who’s dream was about to be shattered. You had been sure they would say yes. He was an amazing singer and a down to earth person. He was destined to be a star.

“They put me into a group. Simon...he placed me with four other boys. I get to move on with my new band.”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice. He must’ve been crying from happiness, or maybe stress....either way he had done it. You were crying along with him now as well, immensely proud of the boy who worked in a bakery, the boy with the heart of gold, and most importantly, your best friend. “Harry I’m so happy for you! Tell me all about it! How was it meeting Simon Cowell? Did he like your song? Who are your new bandmates? Are they nice? Do the sing well? Are they better dancers than you?” you teased him.

You heard him laugh lightly, making you smile even bigger. “Simon seems cool, it was his idea to place us together. I don’t know about the other boys...I think one of their names is Louis...and maybe there’s a Neil...or Niall...something like that. We all thought we were going to be kicked off. We made it with some yes’ but then weren't chosen and now we are in a band and I guess we will have to see what happens. But they did like my song, Simon was asking me about what pies were popular before I sang.”

“You told them you worked in a bakery?”

“Of course, they asked about what I did.” You laughed, shaking your head and smiling at the goof on the phone. Only Harry would bring up the fact that he worked in a bakery. “I have to go, they are calling all of our names. I think I’m going to invite them to my dad’s house, that way we can get started. Maybe you could stop by?”

“Maybe..just let me know when you’re there.”

“Alright...I will.”

“Oh and Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy for you. I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks (y/n). I’ll talk to you soon yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...bye.”

“Bye Harry.” You hung up the phone and screamed, startling everyone in the park you were walking through. “MY BEST FRIEND IS GOING TO BE FAMOUS!”

Present day:

“It really is. I’m glad I’ve had you with me for the ride too.” Harry nudged your side before standing up and walking to the kitchen. “So what are we having for dinner?”

“Tacos?” you laughed. Harry would always come over for Taco Tuesday, and it was always a go to dinner for the two of you.

“You’re speaking my language now.” Harry smiled.

The two of you got to work, pulling out all the stops for taco night. “So...are you seeing anyone?” you asked while cutting the tomatoes for salsa. You didn’t look up, you really didn’t want to know if he was seeing anyone, you wanted to know if he was single.

“Not right now...I’ve just been focusing on me.” Harry answered. You met his eyes and smiled. “There is someone though.”

There it is. The gut wrenching, stomach flipping answer you always received. There was always someone with Harry, and the fact it wasn’t you, just didn’t sit well. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know where it’s going yet.”

You sighed and looked at him again. You always did this, always gave him advice on what to do.”Well, you should go for it. If you like her then maybe...maybe she’s the one.”

“Maybe.” He said thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I don’t want to risk anything.”

“How will you know until you try though?”

“That’s true... maybe I’ll plan my move.”

“Good idea.” you tossed everything into a bowl and stirred, not saying anything. You knew you couldn’t be upset when you hadn’t actually talked to Harry about your feelings, but at the same time you were upset he never even considered you in that type of way.

You didn’t say much at dinner despite the hundreds of questions Harry was asking you. You just weren't in the mood anymore. You were cleaning up the dishes lost in your thoughts when Harry’s arms went around your waist. You looked up and he smiled. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“(y/n) come on, I’ve been your best friend for 10 years I know when you’re lying.”

“It’s fine..it’s nothing.” Harry rested his chin on your shoulder and waited. “Really. It’s all good.”

“Okay.” He stood up letting go and moving to help finish up. “So, what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“What’s it to you?” you laughed. “You never like the guys I date anyways.”

“That’s because they don’t deserve a girl like you.”

“And who does?” you turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry debated on answering. He was working through the process in his head.

Instead of answering he tugged you closer and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Someone. Just none of the guys you have dated.”

You were used to Harry being affectionate. You and him had always been touchy, which is why everyone used to think you were dating. Harry would kiss you nose, forehead, cheeks, head, hands. You would lay on his lap, play with his hair, and even snuggle in bed. It’s how your friendship was and how you hoped it would always be. “Someone? That’s the answer I get.”

“Yeah. Someone.” He laughed and gripped your hand in his. “Now come on, I believe we have a movie night planned.”

“Lead the way.”

Harry tugged you to the couch, tossing your favorite blanket to you while grabbing the remote. He took his seat and you took yours, snuggling up together while the movie played. You were exhausted, tired out from the emotions and your work day. You kept yawning, trying to stay awake but eventually you ended up tangled in Harry’s body, out cold.

You were flat on his chest, your legs tangled in his when you woke up. Light was streaming through the blinds and you knew it was the next morning. Harry’s arms were tightly wrapped around your back, ensuring you wouldn’t roll off his body. You tried climbing off him, but his response was a grunt and an even tighter grip.

“Well isn’t this just adorable.” You jumped up, turning around and finding Louis in the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea. Harry also sat up, confused. You felt your cheeks get hot at the look Louis was giving you. You climbed off Harry and brushed your hair back, suddenly realizing you weren't wearing pants. You tugged the shirt down farther, earning a laugh from Louis. Harry frowned at Louis and tossed you the blanket, allowing you to cover up and run to the bedroom to change.

You got dressed and headed to the kitchen where the guys were talking. “She’s just a friend.” you heard Harry say. You froze, leaning against the wall.

“Well does she know that? You two seem pretty close.” Louis commented.

“Yeah, of course. I’m into someone else anyway.”

“Whatever you say Harry, just don’t be surprised when she ends up heartbroken because of you.”

“She won’t. I won’t let it get that far.” Your heart fell. He only thought of you as a friend and was interested in someone else. He had basically told you that last night but hearing him confirm it with Louis hurt more. Why couldn’t he just give you a chance. Your phone buzzed and your ex Max’s number popped up. *Can we talk. Please.* You wanted to say no. You had used Max in the beginning and then realized what a dick he was. At the same time, Harry hated Max. If you dated him, maybe Harry dating this other girl wouldn’t hurt as much.

*Yeah. Come pick me up.* You hit send and walked into the kitchen with a frown.

“Well there’s the princess.” Louis laughed. “Looking awfully unhappy this morning aren’t we.”

You ignored him, brushing past the boys and to the fridge for some orange juice. “What’s wrong?” Harry asked, confused what had happened since last night.

“Nothing.” you didn’t make eye contact with him.

“Okay, well what are your plans today...I was thinking we could hangout.”

“Actually Max is picking me up soon.”

“What?” Harry and Louis turned to you with surprised looks.

“You said you broke up with him.” Harry grumbled.

“You said he was a dick.” Louis added.

“Well he asked to talk to me and I figured why not.” you answered pouring a cup.

“That’s a terrible idea.” Louis crossed his arms and shook his head. “Where would you ever get the idea that was good.”

“Well after talking to Harry about him making his move, I figured why not try mine. Maybe Max isn’t that bad.”

“Or maybe he is.” Harry crossed his arms and frowned. “You’re best friend is finally here and you’re not going to hang out with him?” “Maybe you can make your move with the other girl while I’m making mine.” you stated, taking a sip.

Louis nodded, suddenly understanding where this was all coming from. He was aware you had heard the conversation. “Interesting plan. Well I better be going. We are all going out tonight yeah? (y/n) bring Max. Harry bring your girl and I’ll bring El. It’ll be fun.”

You nodded agreeing and Harry nodded as well, glaring at you as he walked out the door. “You’re not really going to trust Max again are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“(y/n).”

“Harry.”

“You can’t-” Harry was cut off by the doorbell.

“Max is here. Can you lock up when you leave?” you weren't in the mood for a lecture from Harry. You knew it wasn't fair to be mad at him but you really were frustrated with the whole thing.

Harry nodded, grabbing your arm as you walked out the door. “Just remember...you’re worth more than that asshole standing on the porch. You may not realize it, but you’re beautiful inside and out. You deserve better.” Harry let you go, his eyes burning into your back as you walked out to the porch where Max was standing.

“Hey-” Your mind wasn’t listening to him. It was thinking back to the first time Harry had said that to you.

September 11, 2011:

You were sitting on Harry’s couch. It was a big day for the band. They were releasing their first single today. You wanted to be happy for Harry and the other guys, but instead you were focused on James, your now ex boyfriend. “Penny for your thoughts?” Harry asked, jumping next to you with a grin. You shook your head and wiped the tear that was falling. “Come on (y/n)...something’s wrong...let me help.”

“James broke up with me. He said I wasn’t pretty enough...that I wasn’t skinny enough....” You looked into Harry’s eyes with tears falling down your cheeks. “Why aren’t I good enough H?”

“Stop. That’s ridiculous. You are more than enough. You are beautiful, and you are you. All of those things, the things he said weren’t good enough...they make you YOU. And you, my love, are the most beautiful girl I know.”

You smiled and wiped your tears with your sleeve. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”

“No I’m not. I swear.” He grinned. “You turn heads when you walk through doors. He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see that.” Harry pulled you into his arms and rubbed your back. “In fact, our new single is actually perfect for you right now.”

“It is”

“Yeah, and I’m going to sing it for you.” Harry pushed your butt to the couch and grinned. “You’re insecure, don’t know what for, you’re turning heads when you walk through the door, don’t need make up, to cover up, being the way that you are is enough, everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you, baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair is enough, and when you smile at the ground it aint hard to tell, you don’t know oh oh, you don’t know you’re beautiful, oh oh, that’s what makes you beautiful.” Harry placed a kiss on your nose and smiled. “You’re beautiful (y/n). Don’t let others tell you differently.”

“You’re single is beautiful Harry.” You hugged him tightly and laughed for the first time all day. “I’m so proud of you. Like really, you’re going to go places, and this song, this song will get you there.”

“I’m excited, but promise me you’ll always stay and be part of the journey with me?”

“I promise.”

You and Harry had spent the day watching the song climb in charts, all over the world. The response was overwhelming and again, you were more than excited that Harry was able to live out his dream.

Present day:

“Uh, (y/n)....are we good to go?” Max repeated himself, pointing at the car. You nodded, shaking the images from your head. Harry needed to be put in the past. He didn’t love you that way, not the way that Max did.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” You climbed in the car, watching Harry stand on the porch and let you leave. If he really wanted me, he would’ve stopped me. He would’ve made an effort to actually let you know he felt more. Max drove off and you sat there awkwardly, Harry still stuck in your mind. “So how have things been?” you finally turned to him and forced a smile.

“Fine.” Max kept his eyes on the road, his voice harsh and cold.

“Uh...later tonight, Eleanor, Louis, and Harry are going out, do you want to come with?”

“Sure.”

“Okay...” You looked out the window, regretting this decision. Maybe being single was better than this. Max pulled off at a park and got out. You followed his lead, still uncertain that this was a good idea. “So you wanted to talk?” You sat on the bench next to him.

“Yeah.” You looked over at him, he was focused on the tree in the distance.

“What about?”

“I think we should get back together.” He looked over at you and you froze. You knew this was coming and yet, you weren’t ready to give an answer.

“Why’s that?” Now you were the one focused on the tree.

“I miss you. I miss us.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean we had some fun right?”

“I guess...” you bit your lip. You and Max had started as a fwb type of thing and then you had pushed him to being in a relationship after saying you no longer wanted that. Now he was coming back saying he missed you? “Do you just miss the sex or do you miss me.”

“The se- well both I mean.” Max gripped your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him and then he shoved his lips to your mouth. It was in no way the gentle kiss that you know Harry would give. This was a kiss that was trying to take control. “God I missed you.” he mumbled against your lips. His hands were already trying to slip into your shirt, his length pushing against you as he tugged you to his lap harshly. You tried getting up, breaking the kiss, but his hands held you tightly, a little too tightly actually.

“Max.” you pushed back on his chest, breaking the kiss. “Max stop.”

“What? What the hell?” He grabbed your wrist and prevented you from moving, causing you to wince in pain. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I-”

“No shut the fuck up.” You watched him raise his hand, and closed your eyes. Max had hit you a few times in the past, but usually after getting blackout drunk and aggressive. His hand didn’t hit you, and when you opened your eyes he had lowered it back to your wrist. “Let’s just get in the car.” Max was pissed and you were slightly afraid to get back in his car.

“I-I’m just going to stay here.” you mumbled.

“What?”

“I’m going to stay here.” you said louder and more confidently.

“Like hell you are.” he mumbled, dragging you towards the car. He opened the door and yelled, “GET IN THE CAR (y/n).”

“No.” you tried pulling loose of his grip. “Let me go.” You were pushing against him trying to free your hand. He laughed madly before throwing you to the ground and laying a foot into your side. You cried out, curling into a ball away from him.

“You’re a fucking whore. You pathetic little bitch.” He spit on you and then laughed. “Don’t ever call me again.”

You laid on the ground as he drove away, tears streaming down your face. You didn’t know what to do, you were now stuck at some random park alone, and in pain. You grabbed your phone, debating on who to call for help. Harry would come and give you the supporting words you knew you needed, but he would be upset at the state you were in, and he would be mad that Max left you alone. In fact, he would be pissed. Louis was your other option. He wouldn’t press but would be disappointed knowing everything that had happened in the past. “Louis.” you cried into the phone. “Can you come get me.”

You were sitting in the parking lot when he pulled up. You luckily weren’t injured. You’re side hurt from where he had kicked you, but other than a bruise that would form, you knew you would be okay. You had wiped the tears, and tried to look presentable, but the minute Louis walked out of the car, you broke down. He held you in his arms, rubbing your back as you told him everything. Everything that you had heard about Harry, everything Max had just done, and how you were afraid of what else would happen. “Shh, come on love, let’s get you home.” Louis didn’t say anything, he just drove you home and sat with you as you calmed down.

“Don’t tell Harry.” you looked over at him after an hour of sitting on the couch in his arms. “Please. He will just be upset. Don’t tell Harry.”

“Don’t tell Harry what?” Harry walked into the kitchen with a smile but frowned when he saw you in Louis’ arms.

You looked at Louis and he slightly shook his head. You sat up and sighed, looking at Harry. “That...”

“Go on.” Harry had crossed his arms and was staring the two of you down.

“That she’s not going clubbing.” Louis sat up with a sigh and you looked at him grateful for the excuse.

Harry’s mouth dropped. “What? Why not? We are supposed to leave in an hour or so.”

“I’m not feeling well.” “She doesn’t want to go alone.” You and Louis looked at each other after giving opposite answers.

“I don’t want to go alone.” you stuttered.

“Why would you go alone. Max is in the driveway waiting.”

“What?” you and Louis nearly yelled.

“Yeah...is he not supposed to be?”

“No...I mean...Yes he is. I should go get ready so we can leave.” You stood up, running upstairs and Louis followed.’

“I should help you pick an outfit out yeah?”

You nodded, walking past Harry with your head down. Louis gave him an apologetic smile but saying nothing. You were tearing through your closet for an outfit. You had originally planned on wearing a crop top with jeans, but that wouldn’t cover the giant bruise from Max’s foot. “What can I wear Lou, I mean I can’t just cover a bruise this size.”

“(y/n) you need to not go. You can’t go with Max. You need to fess up and tell Harry what happened.”

“What? No!”

“So you’re just going to go with the guy who just abused you?”

“Yeah.” you tugged on a shirt and looked in the mirror before taking it off and throwing it to the floor.

“(y/n).”

You turned and looked at Louis with tears in your eyes. “Do you know how hard it is? How hard it is to see Harry with other people and know that you are still in love with him and he’s not in love with you?”

“I don’t think-”

“I’m going. And I’m going with Max.” You stared at Louis, not about to give into that idea.

“Fine. Then wear the longer crop top with high waisted jeans. As long as you keep your arms up, you’ll be able to cover it. You smiled, hugging him tightly and throwing on the outfit earning an approving look from Louis. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks Lou.” You hugged him one last time before meeting Harry back downstairs. He was in a t-shirt with his black jeans, the classic look you had grown to love.

“You look- wow.” He smiled at your appearance but frowned when Max walked in.

“You look okay, better than earlier. Let’s go.” Harry looked at Max like he was crazy and you sighed, following him out to the car. Neither of you said anything in the car but when you pulled up to the club, Max locked the doors as you were trying to get out. “Don’t try to pull any shit tonight. Nothing like earlier. Got it?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, jumping out of the car and hurrying to where Louis and Harry were waiting.

The night was going fine, Max wouldn’t try anything as long as you were around Harry and Louis, which you had made a point of priority. You watched Max order two drinks, of course one wasn’t for you, they were both for him. He tilted his head back and downed the quickly before ordering another. Harry watched him with a frown, but pulled you aside while he was busy with the other. “Want to dance?”

“What happened to your date?”

“I decided solo was going to be more fun. Plus we haven’t gone out together in forever, I wanted to spend time with you.”

You smiled letting the butterflies move throughout your stomach while taking his hand and allowing him to pull you out onto the dance floor. He spun you around, his hand landing on your side and causing you to wince in pain. He froze, slightly confused as his hand had barely grazed you. “Sorry I just-”

He tugged your shirt up and his mouth fell open looking at the dark bruise. “What the hell happened (y/n)?”

“Nothing I-I”

Harry shook his head. “He did this didn’t he?” Harry’s eyes darkened and his voice was in a low growl.

“Harry, no stop. Okay? It’s fine.”

“That is not fine (y/n). There is NOTHING about this that is even near fine.”

“Hey man what the hell, she’s my date.” Max stumbled over, slurring his words and grabbing your hand roughly. “Get your dirty hands off my girl.”

“Your GIRL?” Harry laughed and shoved Max backward. “She’s not your girl.”

Max was pissed he ran at Harry, but since Harry was nowhere near drunk, he easily dodged. Louis and Eleanor ran over, trying to step in between the two guys. “What happened?” Louis asked.

“Harry found out what Max did.” you cried. “Harry! Harry please stop.”

Harry looked at you, noticing your fear and froze. A bouncer had rushed in, grabbing Max and halting the fight. “You fucking little whore. You better get your ass in the car. You better give me what I want or your ass will be sorry.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you. Now or ever.” Harry snarled, nodding to the bouncer to carry him away. Harry turned to you, wiping the dirt from his shirt. “(y/n)...” you didn’t even hesitate. You ran into his arms crying, his hands tugging through your hair and rubbing circles into your back until you calmed down. “Shh...come on love, lets go home.” Harry helped you to his car, his hand never leaving yours. He helped you inside and tugged you to his lap where you were finally able to settle down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Oh (y/n)....my sweet sweet (y/n)...why would you ever let a man treat you that way and still go back to him.”

You weren’t drunk, but you had alcohol in your system and you were also exhausted. You yawned, turning into his chest so that he was holding you close. “Because I can’t have the guy I really love” you mumbled sleepily.

“What?” Harry’s hands in your hair froze. His eyes staring down at you.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heart beat. You were drifting off to sleep but managed to get out one more sentence beforehand, “because I can’t have you.”

---

Possibly a new series? What do you think?

xoxo

#directioners #one direction #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Vickie Moseley

Vickie Moseley has 252 stories at Gossamer, some of which have also made their way to AO3. She has obviously contributed a ton to the fandom over the years! I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including Giving Thanks, Stunned, and a bunch of post-eps for particular episodes, including “Firewalker” and “Pine Bluff Variant.” Big thanks to Vickie for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Not really. Well, actually, it has always surprised me that anyone would read my stories even during the heyday of the series, but that’s my self-consciousness talking. That people are discovering The X-Files is not at all surprising and that they are stumbling on fan fic is a natural extension and I find that wonderful. My husband and I never watched Grimm when it was on network TV and we’re currently going through that series, so it’s the streaming-on-demand-there-isn’t-anything-new-on-TV times we find ourselves.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Friendships. I have a group of women that I’ve been friends with for over 20 years. Until this year we gathered in person every year. We are in contact on Facebook messenger all the time and a conversation will start up just out of thin air when we haven’t conversed for months! It’s been wonderful knowing these women from all parts of the country (and the world for that matter).

And strangely enough, medical research. My writing tended to focus on ‘injured Mulder’ (or Mulder Torture as we termed it) and I also liked reading that in fan fic. Two years ago this managed to help me in real life. My husband experienced a bilateral pneumothorax (both lungs collapsed spontaneously). One of my favorite stories that I have read and reread is “Short of Breath” by the incomparable dee_ayy. She did some serious research while writing that story and it’s all in that fan fiction. I’m not saying it’s the same as a medical degree, but I knew what was happening, why the doctors where performing certain procedures and it really eased my mind as we went through the whole experience. I never would have known what was going on if I hadn’t read that story so many times.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Email was the ‘social media’ for the day. That, and newsfeeds. There were two newsfeeds in the beginning: the official FOX website had a message board, and there was one on ‘alt.tv’ which was an internet newsfeed where fans posted spoilers and discussed episodes. The alt.tv newsfeed got tired of the fan fic writers posting stories so a separate newsfeed was formed just for fan fic. EMXC, which was an AOL mailing list, was invite only and somewhat exclusive at first, but opened up to everyone. When the old OSU (Ohio State University) mailing list turned into Gossamer and Ephemeral, the fandom, and fan fic just skyrocketed.

But what you lived for the most, as a writer, was actual feedback. Emails from people all over who read your story. It was nice to get a quick ‘Hey, read this and really like it!’ but the wonderful emails, the ones you kept in folders on your inbox, were the ones that went into detail, sometimes critical, sometimes grammar related, but always showing where you could improve, or where you touched someone. Every friend I have from the fandom started as feedback, either to me or from me. I’m on AO3 and I appreciate ‘kudos’ but I really love getting comments.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Confidence in my writing. I learned a lot from other writers. Constructive feedback was a gift! I may never write the great American novel but I don’t think I’m afraid to give it a shot after all my years in fan fic.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

They had me at ‘aliens’. I’m a sucker for UFO shows. Was front row center at Close Encounters of the Third Kind, read many of the UFO standards, still watch Ancient Aliens on History Channel. I was waiting for The X-Files based on the tiny blurb in the 1993 Fall Preview Guide from TV Guide.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I kinda got fired from a job I loved and couldn’t go back into that arena for a long time. I was so depressed I was cleaning out my kitchen cabinets. My husband ‘gave’ me the internet for my birthday just to get me out of the dumps. I went straight to ‘yahoo’ and typed in X Files. After reading all the character bios I saw a ‘hyperlink’ (yes, that’s what we called them in 1995) to something called ‘fan fiction’. It was the OSU tree directory of about 100 fan fiction stories. I was instantly hooked.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I still love the show and all the fans I run across. I was not happy with S8 or S9 but I did watch The Truth. I was on Haven for a while during the reboots (S10 and S11) but it wasn’t the same. I’ve got all the seasons on DVD or blu ray and both movies. When I hear from fans, I’m so happy to connect but I don’t go out and look for new stories anymore.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

None. My heart belongs to Mulder ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Captain Kirk, Spock, Captain Picard, Will Riker, Luke, Han, Leia, Poe, Rae, Kylo at the end. I like strong characters but it’s OK if they have flaws. I’d like to see more strong female leads in science fiction (Gammora and Nebula are favs of mine, too). I love Brea Larson’s portrayal of Captain Marvel!

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Sure. When the Pandemic hit we started going through the series for maybe the 20th time. It’s nice to watch them on a larger TV screen. Kim Manners was a genius with lighting and showing just enough of the ‘monster’. I suspect he will be better appreciated in the future than he was at the time he was alive.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I still go back and read my favorites from XF. I read Blood Ties by Dawn about once a year, the whole series. I go back and read the Virtual Season X seasons. We had some really good stories in those years.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Too many to list! Dawn, of course. Susan Proto (I co-wrote with her), Sally Bahnsen, dee_ayy, Suzanne Bickerstaff’s Magician Series was the first (and only) fantasy I ever truly liked! I loved all my co-writers and there are plenty of writers that I wish we’d gotten around to collaborating.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I’m proud of Out of the Cold because it’s Mulder before Scully. I’m partial to the Flight Into Egypt series because I like ‘righting’ what I thought Carter got wrong in the end.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I keep trying! I’m working (have been working for almost a decade now) on a Flight Into Egypt story set at Christmas. Each fall I drag it out of mothballs, write a paragraph or two and get busy doing Christmas stuff. Funny, but it was easier to find time to write when I was a working mom of 6 than as a retired grandma of 3.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I’m putting together a cookbook for my kids and grandkids of all our family recipes. It’s not just the recipes, but the stories behind them. It’s a WIP (work in progress).

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I had a book, just a cheap paperback of unexplained events—all true stories, supposedly—that I got a lot of ideas from. Or, like Carter, I would see something in the news and it would turn into a story. One time I had a dream about our Pur water filter and it turned into a fan fic.

What's the story behind your pen name?

My older sister named me because my Mom and Dad let her. I never used a pen name. That’s my real name, you can google me and find out all about me. I used to have a wiki page or so my kids told me.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My kids used to tell their friends that ‘Mom is famous on the internet’ as a joke. Most of my friends know. My other life is in politics and the two lives usually don’t cross but once on a campaign I was asked by a reporter if I was the ‘same’ Vickie Moseley who writes fan fiction. If I had lied, that would have been the story—that I lied about this hobby of mine. Like it was something to be ashamed of or I was ashamed of my writing. So instead of ducking the question I said ‘yeah, have you read any of my stuff?’ Fan fiction was not mentioned in the finished article.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 but only a partial list. My website is still up thanks to Mimic.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Back when I started writing (1995) it was a sort of commune. We all loved reading fan fiction, we didn’t want the story to end with the credits. So if you wanted to read, you were encouraged to write, too, so that others had stories to read and share. It was a cooperative arrangement very much like the old Literary Societies back in the 19th Century. I really miss that, so I hope that on some level that is still going on.

(Posted by Lilydale on November 10, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #vickie moseley

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